


Stronger Than Blood

by agirlwhowrites98



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Anxiety Attacks, Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Muggle Studies, Past Abuse, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Prejudice Against Muggle-borns, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Sassy Hufflepuff, Secret Santa, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlwhowrites98/pseuds/agirlwhowrites98
Summary: “And you’d really give your life for her?”“In a heartbeat.”I stared at him. “She’s not even related to you by blood!” Her blood is impure. I wanted to add, but refrained from doing so.“Some things are stronger than blood, Malfoy.” With those words, Blaise got up and left the Great Hall. I sighed; Breakfast was over, now. And I have to meet with her, soon. I don’t know why, but for some reason, after my talk with Blaise, I was dreading it even more. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my best friend’s words out of my head.He would die for her.“Some things are stronger than blood, Malfoy.”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Felicity 

My mother remarrying so soon after my father passed was one thing. My mother remarrying a _Zabini_ was quite another. But making me take their _last name_ when they got married? That was the final straw. 

“Mum!” I protested, shoving my curly brown hair out of my face as I was preparing to board the Hogwarts Express for my 6th year. “ _Why_ did you make me change my last name? _I_ wasn’t the one who got married to the git!” Honestly, it was a mistake even letting her come to Kings Cross Station to see me off in the first place. Our relationship had been strained ever since she married Blaise’s dad...well, before that, really, but I didn’t want to dwell on that.

“Don’t call your father that!” Mum snapped back at me, and my blood ran cold. Even Blaise (honestly, my stepbrother, a _Slytherin_? How awkward was that?) winced a bit, shooting me a sympathetic look before assuming his cold, arrogant mask once more. 

“He is not my father, nor will he _ever_ be.” I hissed, grabbing my trunks from her and running at the wall on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, feeling a rush of comfort at something I’d done six times now, and satisfaction at the fact that my mum didn’t follow me. I exhaled as soon as I was on the other side, closing my eyes. 

“You look mad closing your eyes like that, Lissie.” Blaise chuckled from behind me, and I whirled around to face my stepbrother, opening my eyes. Oddly enough, Blaise and I got on rather well. He’d told me when our parents first married over the summer that he’d always wanted a sister, even if I was a Hufflepuff. “And if you repeat a _word_ of that at Hogwarts, I won’t hesitate to hex your brains out!” I’d just rolled my eyes, knowing the threat was mostly empty. 

“Whatever. Bad enough that I have to have a _Slytherin_ last name.” I grumbled as I boarded the Hogwarts Express, knowing the dark-skinned boy was right behind me. 

“S’not that bad, Liss.” Blaise rolled his eyes at my dramatics, gently easing my trunks out of my hands, carrying them along with his own as we searched for an empty compartment. He gave me a mischievous smirk. “All the girls will want to be friends with you, you know.” 

I arched a dark eyebrow. “Yeah, I can _totally_ see being besties with Pansy,” I simpered, batting my eyelashes, clasping my fair-skinned hands together tightly. Blaise made a face at my theatrics, but didn’t lose the smug look on his face. I snorted and fell silent.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?” I looked up at Blaise when he turned to me, his chiseled face marred by a frown. I sighed. 

“Frowning gives you wrinkles, brother dear, didn’t you know?” A smirk of my own crossed my face, mirroring the one he’d worn not two minutes prior. Blaise’s eyes widened as he finally sat down in an empty compartment, patting the spot next to him absentmindedly. I sat next to him, fighting back a grin. 

“You’re serious? _Lissie.”_ His hands flew up to his face, feeling around his smooth, flawless complexion for the slightest trace of a wrinkle. I couldn’t help it, then; I busted out laughing, which only made Blaise angrier, though he was laughing as well. “I swear to God, if there’s even _one_ line there when we get to Hogwarts--”

“Still as vain as a girl, are we, Zabini?” a familiar voice drawled, and I immediately stiffened. _Merlin, I forgot I’d inherit Blaise’s friends!_ I quickly stood, making a break for it, but I collided with something warm and solid. Strong arms, instinctively, it seemed, wrapped around my waist to steady me. Once I was certain I hadn’t broken my nose or anything, I looked up. 

“Er, thanks--” Cool, grey eyes met my own dark brown gaze, set in a chiseled, pale face, with a mop of delicate, white-blond hair, an aristocratic nose, lips set into a smirk… “Malfoy?! What in the _bloody_ blazes--” Draco Malfoy dropped his arms from around my waist as if I had a disease, sniffing with disgust. “Who invited the Hufflepuff mutt?” he sneered, looking at Blaise, expecting his friend to laugh. Blaise, to his credit, did not look amused. Instead, he glared at the blonde boy.

“Remember my dad’s wedding this past summer, Malfoy?” He asked quietly, and I could tell he was gritting his teeth. Malfoy seemed surprised by this line of questioning, but he nodded wordlessly, shooting me another nasty look.

“ _Felicity_ is my new stepsister. So kindly don’t call her any names.” 

Malfoy sniffed with disdain as he looked down at me again, curling his lip. I lifted my chin, glaring right back at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blaise looking between us, as if he was watching a very interesting game of chess. The blonde shoved past me roughly, pausing to lean down and whisper into my ear, “Didn’t know Hufflepuffs had such a colorful vocabulary, mutt,” before taking a seat beside Blaise. _My_ seat. I sat down on the seat across from the boys with a huff, drawing my knees up to my chest and closing my eyes, letting the gentle movement of the train lull me to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Draco

“Thank _Merlin_ she’s asleep,” I groaned, turning to look at Blaise more fully. He shot me a sour look. 

“Honestly, mate, would it kill you to be nice to her?

Me? Being nice to a blood traitor like her? My father would have my head, not to mention...well, the Dark Lord wouldn’t be pleased either, to say the least. I hoped the grimace didn’t show on my face, and I carefully rearranged my features into the famous Malfoy smirk. 

“If your father hadn’t married her mum, you wouldn’t give a mutt like her the time of day, Zabini.” I sneered, looking down at the Malfoy family ring on my pointer finger. Blaise seemed to deflate a little at that, and I smirked triumphantly. 

“You’re right,” he scowled, turning his dark eyes to the mutt again. “But honestly, Draco, she’s not so bad once you get to know her.” I fought the urge to gape at him. Malfoys didn’t _gape,_ after all. We stared with _dignity,_ thank you very much. 

“You can’t be serious, Zabini.”

“As serious as I’ve ever been, _Malfoy._ ” He snapped back with a glare. I folded my arms, arching an eyebrow. Surely he would come to see reason. 

“She’s a _Hufflepuff,_ for Merlin’s sake! What’s she good for? An O in Herbology?” 

Blaise snorted. “Actually, she’s terrible at Herbology. Every plant she touches dies.” 

_Yeah, no wonder, that._ “God, don’t remind me. I need to shower straight away when we arrive.” I shuddered, my stomach churning with disgust. I sniffed my arm, just in case her smell rubbed off on me. God knows the thing needed to pull a brush through her mangy hair, probably hadn’t washed it for weeks, with the state it was in. To my surprise, the scent lingering on my black suit -- Father insisted I dressed impeccably at all times -- wasn’t putrid. She...smelled like jasmine. A hint of sandalwood. Was it a shampoo? A perfume? _Probably made by Muggles_. I decided, curling my lip again, because anything a Muggle made was vile, even if it didn’t smell terrible. 

Blaise glowered at me, purposefully turning his back on me. “Hey!” I protested. “You can’t just ignore me!” The look he turned on me then said yes, he _could_ , and if I spoke another word he was going to murder me in my sleep that night. I grumbled but kept silent. I may have been proud, but Blaise was a strong wizard in his own right. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of a hex coming from him. _Fine, have it your way, Zabini._ With nothing left to do, I turned to study the mutt, trying to figure out why Blaise seemed so protective over her. 

There was nothing remarkable about her appearance. She was white, for one thing, so one could tell right away that she and Blaise weren’t actually siblings. Her hair reminded me of Granger’s. _That filthy little Mudblood_. Except that, I had to admit, it wasn’t as bad as Granger’s. The curls were darker, more of a medium brown. They were covering her face, actually, which was annoying. I took out my wand, muttering a spell that moved her hair out of the way without me having to touch it. 

With her pesky hair out of the way, I saw that she had clear skin, much like my own. Long eyelashes. Delicate lips. Straight nose. She was just...average. What was the big deal? Why was I supposed to be nice to her? “Are you quite finished?” A female voice hissed, and my eyes snapped back to the mutt. _Bloody hell._ Her eyes were dark brown, one part of my brain noted. The other part thought of something witty to say. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, mutt.” I snapped, crossing my arms and giving her a nasty look. “I was just seeing what your brother was so worked up about. Nothing worth mentioning.” I added when she opened her mouth to speak. I laughed as she closed her mouth again, gritting her teeth, her eyes flashing angrily. Before I knew what was happening, she’d slapped me across the face. I lifted a hand to my cheek, gobsmacked, before lurching forward, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and yanking her towards me roughly. 

“How _dare_ you touch me, you filthy little--!” 

“What the HELL is going on?” Blaise’s shout made both me and the mutt jump. When he saw the way I was handling her, his features contorted with rage. He grabbed me by the shoulders, throwing my body down onto the space where he’d been sitting minutes before (when had he even _gone_?). I caught his fist swiftly before it could strike my face. 

“Touch her again and I’ll hex your balls off in your sleep!” Blaise seethed, and his eyes were filled with such pure anger that if I had been a lesser man, I would’ve been afraid. I put up my hands in surrender, grinning. 

“Not the family jewels, mate!” 

He didn’t find that as funny as I did, apparently, because he turned his attention towards the mutt. “What in _Merlin’s_ name _happened_? I’d just gone to the loo. You were taking a nap when I left!” I noticed that most of the anger Blaise had directed towards me had seeped out of his tone, leaving exasperation in its wake. 

“I _was_ ,” She sniffed. “Until I woke up to see him _ogling_ me like a bloody--” 

“Like I would _ever--_ ” I protested, only to be cut off by Blaise smacking me upside the head before he turned back to his sister. 

“And I’m sure you didn’t help matters by being snarky, did you, Lissie?” I wanted to laugh, because honestly, what kind of nickname was that? But the two conversed like I wasn’t in the same compartment as them anymore. 

“I wasn’t snarky!” 

“Oh, no? Malfoy just _decided_ to yank you ‘round like a limp ragdoll?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” she muttered with a snort, and I had nothing to reply with, because she wasn’t wrong. It sounded like something I would do, especially with the likes of her, but I decided not to say so. I did have _some_ manners, mind you. 

“Felicity!” Blaise was starting to get angry again, I could tell. Fortunately, the mutt seemed to possess at least one brain cell, because she sighed and admitted it. 

“I...may have overreacted.” 

“ _May_ have?” I repeated incredulously. “If that was your version of _may have_ , what’s next? Blowing up the Ministry? Assassinating Dumbledore?” My stomach tightened then. Assassinating Dumbledore...I shouldn’t have said that. Neither of them seemed to notice, thankfully. Well, the mutt still got angry, but at least they didn’t catch my slip-up. 

“Go to Hell, Malfoy,” The insolent girl growled, and I arched an eyebrow again, looking at Blaise. 

“I was under the impression that I’d already arrived, actually, slumming it with the likes of you.”

Blaise had to physically hold her back so she wouldn’t hit me again. I smirked. Maybe this year would be alright after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I adore writing in Draco's POV. Hope I do his character justice!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Felicity

I stormed into the Hufflepuff common room, my thoughts somewhat scrambled. Who in the world did he think he was, manhandling me like that? I had to admit, I’d been scared that he was going to hurt me when he grabbed me so violently. Thank God Blaise had shown up…

“Felicity?” The gentle voice of my best friend, Hannah Abbott, pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked, looking down at the shorter girl. “Are you okay?” Her blue eyes were wide with concern. I sighed. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I mumbled, massaging my temples as I walked to my room, shedding my outer Hufflepuff robes and tossing them on the bed. Hannah followed me, arching a thin blonde eyebrow. I glared at her.

“What?”

“Spill.” 

“There’s nothing—“

“Felicity Grace Zabini!” Hannah made a face then. “It’s still weird calling you that. But I know something’s wrong. I’m your best friend, Fee, so tell me what it is!”

I rolled my eyes, plopping onto my bed. Unfortunately for me at the time, we shared a room, so she just sat down on her bed and folded her arms, waiting. “It’s just…” I started. “On the way in, Blaise and I had an unfortunate run-in with Malfoy, and--”

“Malfoy?” Hannah interrupted, paling, and I stared at her. 

“Yeah. What--why are you looking at me like that?”

Hannah rose from her bed, crossing the room and sitting next to me on my bed. Her kind blue eyes were troubled. “I suppose you didn’t hear, then.” She said gravely. I shook my head, wondering what on Earth she was talking about. “He...well, Katie Bell...he’d given her some sort of necklace, and it cursed her. Madam Pomfrey said she was going to be fine, and she isn’t even in the Hospital Wing anymore, but Draco…” She sighed. “Well, I’m sure you can figure out how she got it.” 

My eyes widened. Sure, Malfoy was an arrogant jerk, but to be capable of such violence? What reason would he have for that? I knew he wasn’t a fan of Gryffindors, but still...something didn’t add up. He was a bully, but I had a hard time believing he was the type of person to try to kill someone. I blinked a few times. “Wow,” I muttered, still trying to make sense of it in my brain. Hannah nodded wordlessly, then reached over and gave me a big hug, one I returned, squeezing her gently. I’d missed my best friend over the summer. She pulled back, giving me a smile and shoving me playfully. 

“My summer was great, thanks for asking.” 

I snorted and caught up with my best friend until it was time to go to sleep, easing back into the familiarity of our friendship and of Hogwarts. At the back of my mind, though, what Draco Malfoy did continued to baffle me. 

***

The next morning at breakfast, I noticed that Katie Bell was back. My eyes brightened. So she was okay, that was good. She looked very weak, but at least she was alive. I made my way over to her; Harry Potter had beaten me there, it seemed. I didn’t know him too well, but he and Hannah were acquaintances, and he was nice enough. 

I nodded a hello to Harry before looking at Katie, giving her a sweet smile. “Katie, glad to see that you’re okay!” The Gryffindor gave me a small smile in return, opening her mouth to speak, when suddenly, Harry tensed beside us, staring at a point past our heads. I turned and followed his gaze. Draco Malfoy stood there, his grey eyes wide as he stared at Katie. For once, his features were unguarded, his face pale as he took in her sickly state. A flash of remorse flickered through his eyes, followed by panic, before the Slytherin turned around and fled out of the Great Hall. Harry started after him, his fists clenched, but I grabbed his arm. 

“Harry,” I chewed on my lip, tugging him by his sleeve. He shot me an exasperated look but didn’t try to break out of my grasp. 

“Felicity, he--” 

“I know,” I cut him off, giving him a stern look. “But running after him and confronting him when you’re angry won’t help anything. Let me...I’ll go see what he’s up to, okay? Stay here.” I dropped Harry’s arm and ran after Malfoy, wondering what in the world had gotten into me. 

I ran somewhat blindly until I saw a streak of white-blonde hair around the corner, and I forced myself to speed up, not wanting to lose him. When Malfoy entered the boy’s bathroom, however, it gave me pause. I stood awkwardly at the doorway, hiding behind it so Malfoy wouldn’t see me. As I watched, he took off his outer vest, turning on the water in the bathroom sink, splashing his face, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Despite myself, my heart clenched at the look on his face. He looked exhausted, visible bags under his eyes even from where I was standing. He looked at himself bitterly, as if he hated his reflection. His chest heaved, and he was shaking. 

Then, Draco Malfoy braced his hands on either side of the sink, bowed his head, and began to weep. He wept like a trapped, lonely soul, with heart wrenching, broken sobs that shook his shoulders, making him gasp for air. The fist closed around my heart flexed and squeezed even more. My Hufflepuff instincts took over, then. I couldn’t just stand there and watch someone sob, no matter who they were. 

“Malfoy?” I ventured hesitantly, moving into the doorway. He whipped around, tears streaming down his face, and before I could even register the movement, he was in front of me, his wand pointed shakily at my throat. 

“How long have you been standing there, mutt?” Malfoy growled. Or, at least, he tried to. It was hard for anyone to sound menacing when tears were streaming down their cheeks. I held up my hands, careful not to move, what with his wand at my throat. 

“Long enough,” I whispered, hoping to Merlin that he wouldn’t hex me right then and there. His grip tightened on his wand, and he glared at me through his tears. 

“Come to gloat, eh, Zabini? Now that you’ve seen a Malfoy at his worst? Going to tell the world that I have a heart after all?” He dug his wand closer into my throat, gaining anger from his words. 

“No!” I yelped when Malfoy’s hand slapped over my mouth, as I’d yelled that a bit louder than I’d meant to. “No,” I murmured when he dropped his hand, wiping it on his pants. “No, I just...Harry looked like he was going to kill you, so I held him back because I figured a fight was the last thing anyone needed, and...why are you looking at me like that?” But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking over my shoulder. I turned, following his gaze, and my heart stopped. 

Because before us stood Albus Dumbledore, who, by the angry look on his face, had seen Malfoy’s wand at my throat and heard the last bit of our argument. “Oh, _bloody_ hell.” I mumbled as the headmaster gestured for us to follow him. 

***

“Sit down Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini.” Dumbledore’s tone left no room for argument, so Malfoy and I sat in the two chairs in front of his desk. By now, Malfoy’s tears had dried, but one only had to take a close look at him to know that he’d been crying. Dumbledore certainly noticed, but was apparently kind enough not to say anything about it. 

Once we were seated, Professor Dumbledore clasped his hands together, studying us. “Care to explain why Mr. Malfoy’s wand was aimed at your throat, Miss Zabini?” he asked after a moment, leaning back. I glanced at Malfoy, who looked even paler than usual. His grey gaze alternated between Dumbledore and I, filled with dread, as if he knew something bad was about to happen. An hour ago, I wouldn’t have given a second thought to ratting Malfoy out. God knows he made my life miserable enough. But then I remembered the way he’d looked in the bathroom. Haunted. Desperate. Exhausted. Broken. I didn’t have the heart to get him in trouble, not after that.

“It--it was my fault, sir.” I said after a moment, and I saw Malfoy’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline for a millisecond. “I, ah...well, since it’s been a few months since I’ve lived here, I got turned around, thought that that particular bathroom was the girls bathroom. Happens every year, only lasts for a few days as I readjust. Anyways, Mal-Draco just happened to be walking out of the bathroom, and he bumped into me. We all have the instincts to pull out our wands to defend ourselves nowadays,” I shrugged. “Just in case, y’know...with You-Know-Who running about. That’s all you saw there.” 

Dumbledore just stared at me for a few minutes, and I was beginning to feel _pretty_ stupid, but finally, he spoke. 

“Hufflepuffs have never been good liars, Miss Zabini.” He told me, his voice firm, but his eyes were kind, as if coaxing me to tell the truth. But I found that I couldn’t. I shook my head stubbornly. 

“I--I’m afraid that’s the story I have to stick to, sir.”

The headmaster raised an eyebrow at me. “Why is that, Miss Zabini?”

I shook my head again, fear gnawing at my gut. “I--I can’t tell you.”

For the first time in a few minutes, Dumbledore looked at Malfoy, whose face gave nothing away. He alternated his gaze between us a few times, then sighed. 

“Well, Miss Zabini, I do trust that your reasons are noble for keeping something from me.” I sighed with relief, but Dumbledore held up his hand. “However, if you are not willing to tell me the truth, I will need something from you. Both of you,” he added, looking at Malfoy again. Neither Malfoy nor I spoke, so Dumbledore took that as a cue to tell us what he wanted. 

“The prejudice I see amongst the students at Hogwarts astounds me,” he began, steepling his fingers together. “ _Every_ student at Hogwarts is a valuable member of our community, no matter their blood status.” Malfoy snorted at this, but one stern look from Dumbledore shut him up. “Which is why, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini will be teaching you about Muggle Studies.” 

“What?” Malfoy cried, his eyes widening. At the same time, I laughed, “Me? Tutor MALFOY? Yeah right,” 

“ _Silencio_ ,” Dumbledore waved his wand at us, and to my outrage, neither of us could speak. This time, both Malfoy _and_ I glared at the headmaster, whose eyes were maddeningly cheerful. “That is an order, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Zabini. You _both_ will benefit from this in the long-run, I assure you. Miss Zabini is second only to Miss Granger in your class, Mr. Malfoy. In fact, the two of you share that honor. If you refuse, there will be consequences. Understood?” 

Grudgingly, we both nodded, or maybe that was just so he’d shut up and reverse the silencing charm he’d cast on us. Either way, the headmaster reversed the spell, dismissing us from the room. With one last, parting glare, though I couldn’t help but notice it held less malice than before, Malfoy stalked off to the dungeons. I sniffed with distaste, heading to my own common room. _Hannah is going to flip…_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to work on writing longer chapters, but this is just a rough draft, so I suppose I have an excuse.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Draco

I woke up the next day in a terrible mood. Not that that was unusual. 

Of two things I was absolutely certain:

  1. Murdering Albus Dumbledore was sounding like a better plan all the time and 
  2. Felicity Zabini covered for me, and lied badly to do it. 



I snorted. Honestly, the girl should’ve learned how to become a better liar. It was a valuable skill, one that would’ve taken her far in life. Or, at least, would’ve enabled her to tell a more believable story. _But she didn’t have to lie for you._ The annoying part of my brain whispered, the one that told me to mind my manners and become a better person. I usually ignored that part of my brain. It was better that way. For everyone involved. 

But for some reason, the thought kept nagging me. Fel--the mutt could have ratted me out to Dumbledore. In fact, I’d fully expected her to. So why hadn’t she? What was she trying to prove? What could she possibly have to gain…Then it hit me. 

The cursed girl had seen me crying! That didn’t mean anything, though, right? Surely she would’ve forgotten about it overnight. I prayed to Merlin I would be that lucky, but something told me that that was wishful thinking. I shook off those thoughts as I went to eat breakfast that morning in the Great Hall, sure I was overreacting. Fortunately, or, _unfortunately,_ depending on the opinion you had on stupid, pug-faced girls, I was provided a distraction from my troubling thoughts. 

“Draco!” Pansy practically sat on my lap as soon as I sat down with my food. We’d dated off and on, sure, but it was never anything serious. Despite my family’s dearest wishes, I could never see myself settling down with a woman like Pans. The thought made me want to throw up, frankly. 

“Pansy,” I nodded, nudging her off my lap so I could eat my breakfast unencumbered. Pansy, of course, pouted. 

“Aw, c’mon, no good morning kiss?” she simpered sickeningly, and I rolled my eyes. 

“God, Pansy, who are you, my mother? She asks me for a kiss on the cheek every morning. I’m _eating,_ thanks. Do go away.” I made a point to ignore her for the rest of breakfast. 

“Not in a chatty mood, Draco?” Blaise smirked as he dropped into the seat on my other side, grabbing a piece of bacon off my plate and shoving it into his mouth. I smacked his hand, glaring. “Guess not.” 

“Sod off, Zabini.” I grumbled, scooting my plate of bacon farther away from him, but he snagged another piece off before I could get it far enough. I slapped his hand again. “Get your own bacon, you arse!” 

Blaise laughed, holding up his hands. “Fine, fine! Geez, mate, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” My expression darkened. _Oh, nothing much. Just that mutt that you call a sister. Having to tutor me on all things Muggle._

“I said sod off.” 

“And when have I ever listened?” 

“There’s a first time for everything.” 

“Not today there isn’t.” 

“Will the day ever come?”

“Draco!”

“Blaise!” I mimicked, scowling. “Merlin, what do you want from me?” 

The dark-skinned boy leveled his gaze with me. “I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s got you so worked up.” 

I threw my hands up in the air, frustrated. “What are you, my bloody therapist? _Fine._ It’s that stupid.” I stabbed my eggs. “ _Bloody._ ” Stab. “ _Sister_ of yours, and now Dumbledore’s decided that she has to teach me Muggle Studies, because the ‘prejudice is just astounding in the school.’ Have you ever heard of such utter rubbish?”

Normally when you rant to your best mate, you can expect them to get as angry as you do, or at least give you verbal affirmation that they’re _listening_. Blaise was silent for so long that I looked up from my plate of food and met his eyes. As soon as I did, he doubled over laughing. “Stop laughing!” I snapped, growing more irate the more he laughed. I growled. “I _mean_ it, Blaise, stop!” When he didn’t stop, I snarled, “Bastard,” before getting up from my seat. There was only one way out of this.

I glanced around the Great Hall until I spotted her, eating and laughing with her friends. I rolled my eyes at her happiness, stalking over to their table and, without preamble, yanked her up by her sleeve, dragging her into the corridor. As soon as we were in the hall, she turned on me.

“What the hell—“

“Listen, Zabini!” I cut her off rudely. “And listen well. I am _not_ being tutored by you. I don’t _care_ what that old snot says, I am not! Understood?” My voice was quiet, but it was firm, and I hoped she would get the message. I nodded once and turned to go back inside the Great Hall, but the mutt grabbed my sleeve, yanking me back to her. 

“I don’t know if you recall, Malfoy.” She started in a sugary sweet voice. “But I know things about you. Things you wouldn’t want being public knowledge, now would you?”

My face paled. “You wouldn’t!”

"Oh, no?” She folded her arms, raising her chin and glaring at me. “Wanna test that theory?”

We glared at each other for a few moments, a battle of wills. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was right. No one could _ever_ know about that display in the bathroom. My father would murder me! “Malfoys never cry, son.” He’d sneer. “Pull yourself together!”

I cursed under my breath. “Fine, but if you _ever—_ “ 

“Let the world know that you actually have a heart?” She finished, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, they wouldn’t believe me if I told them, anyway.” With that, she turned around and strolled back into the Great Hall.

This year was going to be absolute Hell.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Felicity 

I drummed my fingers on the table, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall above the door frame. Dumbledore had given me access to an empty classroom so I could tutor Malfoy. In fact, I’d never seen the classroom before he showed it to me that day, and I couldn’t help but notice how far removed it was from everything else in the castle. Then again, maybe that was for the better. I wasn’t crazy about being seen tutoring him, and I knew for a fact he would rather die than be seen with me. 

The problem remained, though. He was late. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised. No way would Draco Malfoy show up on time to a place he didn’t want to be. I sighed. Didn’t he care that I had other things to do? I was only doing this because Dumbledore was making me! “Slimy git,” I mumbled. “Can’t even show up on time.”

“Been here the whole time, mutt,” drawled a voice, quite suddenly, and I let out a shrill scream, whipping out my wand and pointing it in the direction the voice came from, but I was met with empty air. 

“What the--” 

“Right here, Zabini.” Malfoy sounded downright bored now as he took off a cloak, his smirking face suddenly becoming visible. I yelled again. It wasn’t like I’d never seen magic before, mind you, but there’s something very disconcerting about an invisible person turning visible in front of your very eyes. I scowled. 

“What in Merlin’s name was that for?” I demanded, trying to get my racing heart to calm down. I glanced at the cloak he’d taken off. “Is that Harry’s--” 

“Sure is. Our little secret, though, if you please.” Malfoy cut me off with a faux sweet smile, and I rolled my eyes. As if I cared about Malfoy and Harry’s rivalry enough to rat him out. 

“I have better things to do with my time, thanks.” I shot back, folding my arms with a huff. I took another breath, going to the podium at the front of the classroom and leaning against it. “Care to take a seat?”

“No.”

“Would it help if I said please?”

“Not likely.”

I just shook my head, refraining from rolling my eyes yet again. “Fine. First order of business, then. What do you know of the Muggle culture?” 

Malfoy moved to hop up on one of the tables, sprawling out lazily, as if he owned that table and had every right to sit on it in such a haphazard manner. His lip curled. “What is there to know? They’re Mudbloods. Parasites.” The words were spoken with so much malice that I almost cringed. What was worse, I could tell that the Slytherin actually meant what he was saying. He actually thought that Muggleborns were dirty parasites. 

“Well, you’d be surprised to learn that their culture is quite impressive,” I began, but Malfoy cut me off again, this time with a sneer. 

“Don’t you mean _your_ culture, Zabini? You don’t get off just because your mum married Blaise’s father.” 

My shoulders stiffened at that. “That’s none of your business,” I replied, gritting my teeth, which only made the insufferable prat’s smirk grow more pronounced. 

“I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” Malfoy crowed, his gray eyes glinting with malice. I looked away from him for a moment, trying to compose myself. 

“No.”

“No?” Malfoy wasn’t going to let it go. “Where’s your Mudblood father, then? Depressed after your mum left him, is he?”

Tears stung my eyes, and for a moment, I was too stunned to be angry. “My father is dead.” I whispered. Oddly enough, Malfoy’s expression seemed to lose most of its malice. Maybe even he was above insulting someone’s dead relatives. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Alright, so Muggle culture. In 1969, they landed on the moon.”

The Slytherin choked. “The _moon_?”

It was my turn to smirk. “Yes, the moon.”

He sat up from his sprawled out position on the table, opting to sit up straight, leaning forward. “And they used magic?”

I snorted. “No, they don’t _have_ magic, remember?”

Malfoy frowned. “How did they--”

“It’s called a rocketship,” I told him, enjoying the fact that I knew something he didn’t. I frowned, thinking of a way I could show him. After a moment, I went to the chalkboard, drawing on it with my wand. “It’s shaped kind of like this, and it goes straight up into the air. I’m fairly certain there were only three men inside of it. American blokes.” Malfoy arched a pale eyebrow, seeming impressed. I slid my wand up the sleeve of my robes again, walking back to my original place at the podium, nodding. “I saw a clip of it on the telly once,” I continued thoughtfully, only to be interrupted by Malfoy once more. 

“What in Merlin’s name is a telly?” 

The mental image of Draco Malfoy in front of a Muggle television set made me want to laugh. Instead, I gave him a mischievous grin of my own. “I’ll show you sometime.” 

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Draco

Why was she smiling at me like that? It was like she knew something I didn’t, and that irked me. This halfblood, this _Hufflepuff,_ for Merlin’s sake...what right did she have knowing more than I did? Then I remembered what we were talking about. I shouldn’t have cared about this!

I scoffed at her. “Like I’d want to see anything a Mudblood has invented,”

The mutt flinched at that word, like most witches and wizards did. I’d grown up hearing the slur, and it rolled off my tongue easily. And though I’d never admit it to anyone, a part of me _was_ rather impressed. Muggles had managed to land on the bloody _moon_ , for Salazar’s sake, _without_ magic! I frowned, wondering how her...what had she called it? Her “telly” had been able to show her those men landing on the moon. Surely there had to be _some_ magic involved. I had questions, many of them, but I’d sooner die before voicing any of them. 

Zabini’s sister rolled her eyes at me, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her with a raised hand. She flinched slightly, as if she thought I was going to strike her. I scowled, but a part of me wondered if she was beaten at home. I fought the urge to frown at that. I may have been prideful, but I’d been raised _properly,_ and I knew it was never okay to hit women. Still, this was a blood traitor I was talking about. I didn’t give it another thought, instead saying, “For Merlin’s sake, Zabini, why would I dirty my hands by striking you?” 

Her dark eyes flashed with anger at that, but her shoulders relaxed slightly. 

“Now then,” I continued. “What else have your Muggles accomplished?” If we were really going to do this, I wasn’t going to let her glare at me the whole time. She should’ve been making herself useful instead of nagging at me the entire time.

The Hufflepuff thought for a moment before speaking again. “Well, just like in the wizarding world, they have photographs, but there’s a big difference between them,” I watched as she swept her thick hair off of her neck, removing a necklace. I hadn’t even noticed she was wearing one, and I was a bit startled when she opened it, crossing the room to show me what was inside, but I was curious nonetheless. 

A tiny picture, taken fairly recently, I decided, as Zabini looked nearly identical to the way she did now, depicted Zabini with her arms around a man and woman. All of them were smiling broadly, and I felt a tug in my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time my parents had looked so happy to be around me, or, _anyone_ , really. “Who’s that?” I couldn’t help but ask, pointing to the man in the photo, because I knew for a fact that it wasn’t Blaise’s father, and the woman was most definitely Felicity’s mum. 

The girl’s expression softened slightly. “That’s my father,” she divulged after a moment, touching one slender finger to the photo gently. “He passed away this past Christmas. Car crash. The paramedics said it was instant…” Zabini trailed off, and to my horror, her eyes started to fill with tears. I wanted to ask her what a “car” was, and why it was so incompetent that it crashed. I wondered why her father would be stupid enough to use something that would kill him. And what in the bloody blazes was a paramedic? All of these questions swirled in my mind, but then I noticed something else.

“Why in the _bloody_ name of Merlin isn’t the photograph moving?” I choked out, taking a step back from the photo, though I couldn’t help but stare at it for a few more seconds with morbid curiosity. “What’s wrong with it? Is it broken?” Looking at it gave me the creeps, and I couldn’t suppress a shudder. Zabini stared at me for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. I can’t stand it when people laugh at me-- _me_ , a Malfoy! 

“For Salazar’s sake, witch, why are you laughing at me?” I snapped irritably, though, unexpectedly, I found that I was fighting the urge to laugh with her. Her laughter was annoyingly contagious. I pursed my lips, losing that urge very quickly when she just continued to howl with laughter. “To hell with this,” I grumbled, hopping off the table I’d been sitting on and stalking to the door, fully prepared to leave that godforsaken classroom, but the mutt’s voice stopped me. 

“Wait!” She gasped, though she was, I could tell, still trying to rein in her laughter. “Come back, please. I’m sorry, I just....” 

I rolled my eyes and turned back around to face her. Her dark eyes were...what was that? I squinted. It took me a minute to name the emotion etched in her features, but then I recognized it: She was apologetic. _Genuinely_ apologetic; The earnestness in her gaze unnerved me. I’d never met someone who displayed their emotions so clearly on their face. _I_ certainly never did such a thing. I always, _always_ schooled my features into a cold, hard, indiscernible mask. It was too much, too...I blinked, focusing on the wretch once more. “Just _what_ , mutt?” I bit out, glaring at her resentfully. Shock flashed across her features, quickly dissolving into irritation. 

The She-Zabini shook her head, muttering something under her breath before she answered me, her tone matching mine. “That’s enough for today. Same time tomorrow.” With that, the little devil pushed herself away from the podium, strolling towards the door without a second glance. I growled, reaching out to snatch her back by her elbow to face me; I didn’t care enough to be gentle about it. 

“I didn’t agree to two miserable days in your presence, She-Zabini.” 

The witch wrenched her elbow away from me, practically snarling. “Nor did I, _Malfoy._ _Dumbledore_ informed me that we are to meet twice a week on Mondays and Tuesdays until the end of the year.” 

I groaned internally. Until the end of the bloody _year_? Sweet Salazar, could this get _any_ worse? My eyes darkened. “What a _joyful_ way to begin each week,” I snorted with derision. She-Zabini gave me a contemptuous laugh while tossing her mane of casually unruly curls over her shoulder. My nose was assaulted with the smell of her once more, the faint hint of jasmine mixed with amber and sandalwood. 

“Trust me, Malfoy, it’s an absolute _delight_ to spend time with an insufferable _git_ like you.” Her voice oozed with more venom than I thought Hufflepuffs were capable of possessing. I didn’t try to stop her when she stalked away again. 

“ _Bloody_ hell,” I seethed to myself before exiting the classroom as well. As if my 6th year wasn’t going badly enough… 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Felicity 

Needless to say, I was extraordinarily grumpy the next morning at breakfast. 

Hannah watched me with a mix of amusement and concern. “Penny for your thoughts?” She attempted after a moment, and I had to grin a little at that, knowing she’d heard the Muggle saying from me. 

“Not worth it,” I mumbled, pushing my plate of scrambled eggs away. I didn’t seem to have an appetite at that moment. My best friend was silent, and I looked into her curious blue eyes. “What? It’s really not.”

“Yeah, a likely story.” Hannah scoffed, but then she softened her tone a bit at the increasing look of annoyance on my face. “Did Malfoy do something again?” I started a bit at her words; Was I really that transparent? 

“Besides being an obnoxious prat? No. It’s just…” Before I could say anything else, I felt someone drop into the seat on my other side, interrupting me. 

“What my sister is _trying_ to say, Abbott, is that Dumbledore has tasked her with teaching Malfoy about anything and everything Muggle,” Blaise slung an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side affectionately. Hannah and most of the other Hufflepuff witches only managed to stare at my brother, and I can’t say I blamed them. Blaise was normally quite cold and aloof, much like his cursed best friend, but he was always openly affectionate towards me. I couldn’t help but notice how a lot of his affectionate moments coincided with my irritable moods. _He definitely does that on purpose._

“He _told_ you?” I tried to shake Blaise’s arm off my shoulder, but he held on to me stubbornly, as if he was afraid to let me go all of the sudden. I looked up into his eyes, trying to read them, but they gave nothing away. 

“I had to force it out of him, but yeah,” Blaise replied, arching a brow at me. “Have you started meeting him?” 

I snorted, glowering at my plate of scrambled eggs. “The first session was yesterday.”

“How did that go?” Hannah spoke for the first time since Blaise had sat down at our table; The latter gave my best friend a cursory glance before looking back at me, the same question in his eyes. I shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance.

“About as well as you’d expect when you force a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff to socialize.” 

Blaise fake-pouted at that. “And here I thought we got on rather well!” His lopsided grin was teasing, and I smiled for the first time since I’d woken up. All around me, I could see my fellow Hufflepuff witches whispering to themselves and giggling, sneaking glances at Blaise. I refrained from rolling my eyes. 

“Honestly, Blaise, put that thing away,” I quipped back, referring to his cheeky grin. “You’re going to give them a coronary,” I gestured to the witches around me. The Slytherin’s smile turned into a smug smirk. 

“It’s a part of the charm, love.” He countered, sending a wink to a blushing 5th year seated across from me, tousling my hair. I swatted at his hands. 

“Let go of me, you obnoxious git!” I laughed, and my brother finally complied, laughing a bit as well. 

“Really, though.” Blaise fixed his dark eyes on me, expression sobering. “How did it go? Anything interesting to report?” 

My lips curved up into a little smile. “He’s terrified of Muggle photographs.” 

“You’re kidding!” Hannah giggled. I felt my smile widen at the memory. 

“You should’ve seen his face. I showed him the picture in my locket, and he yelled,” I lowered my voice, doing my best imitation of Malfoy. “‘Why in the _bloody_ name of Merlin isn’t the photograph moving?’” Blaise and Hannah threw back their heads and laughed in sync. 

“Oh, gods!” Blaise gasped out, clutching his stomach in laughter. “I never thought I’d see the day. The great Draco Malfoy, afraid of Muggle photos,” He snorted, and I chortled along with him. 

“What did you say?” Hannah choked out, her slender shoulders still shaking with mirth. I chuckled at that memory. 

“I didn’t say anything; I was too busy laughing at him!” I divulged. “Merlin, you should have seen him. He stepped back like the photo would hurt him.” 

Blaise chuckled at that, but said in a more serious voice, “Careful there, Lissie. Draco hates it when people laugh at him.” 

“Saw that firsthand,” I mumbled back. Malfoy’s reaction to being laughed at struck me as rather childish. Was he so doted upon that no one dared to disagree with him? Was he so spoiled that he’d not even been made fun of? Not that I was condoning such behavior, mind you. It was only...every child was made fun of growing up, weren’t they? Where did he get off escaping that sort of thing? 

I suppose that’s one of the many things money and influence can buy: shelter. Shelter not only in the form of a house, but shelter from the harsh realities of human behavior as well. Envy colored my heart green. How I wished that I could have afforded such a luxury!

I’d never been to Malfoy Manor, but Blaise told me all about it. I knew how massive it was. I’d even heard rumors about the inheritance Malfoy would earn when his father died; It was more money than I’d ever see in my lifetime. Perhaps wealth makes everyone a fool. Who’s to say I wouldn’t behave in the same manner, had our stations in life been reversed? I blinked out of those thoughts as I felt Blaise tug on my arm. I focused on him. “Huh?” 

“Where did you go?” Blaise asked, touching a finger to my forehead. I shook my head. 

“I was just thinking. What did you say?”

My brother pursed his lips. He opened his mouth only to close it again. Finally, he decided on, “When do you meet with him next?” 

I scowled. “Today, same time as yesterday. We’re to meet every Monday and Tuesday for the entire year.” _Merlin help us all_. Blaise whistled. 

“Tough luck, sis.” He hesitated. “Just...do me a favor?” 

I blinked. “Depends on what you want.” 

Blaise rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing too hard.”

“Fine. What?” 

Blaise gave me a long, measured look. “Give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s...going through a lot right now.” I sincerely doubted that. What would someone like Malfoy be going through that was even remotely difficult? Having a lack of designer robes? The look on my brother’s face gave me pause, though, so I held my tongue. I’d be serious about this if only for Blaise’s sake. 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” I wanted to grimace as I said the words, because that promise and my smile were a lie. Blaise could tell I was lying; I saw it on his face, but he nodded anyway, standing up from his seat. 

“Good. I’ll see you later, Liss.” He leaned down to kiss my forehead before sauntering over to the Slytherin table. As I watched, my eyes met a familiar grey gaze. Malfoy glared at me. I glowered back at him and looked away. Honestly, would it _kill_ him to be decent to me? Even once? Hannah cleared her throat, snatching my attention away from Malfoy. 

“You know,” She announced with a grin that was a little too wide for my liking. “They say that there’s a fine line between love and hate. You and Malfoy--” 

I threw my napkin at her. “ _Definitely_ hate, Hannah. It’s definitely hate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannah could be onto something, don't you think? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Draco 

I lifted a brow as Blaise sat down next to me. “Thinking about switching houses, Zabini?” Honestly, what had he been doing sitting there for twenty minutes? For Salazar’s sake, breakfast was nearly over! The mutt couldn’t have been _that_ entertaining. 

But I’d seen the way Blaise interacted with She-Zabini, even her pathetic best friend. Some part of me, a part that could never see the light of day, wished that I had friendships where things were so... _easy._ My own best friend had always been stoic, prideful, aloof. But with his sister, he seemed to open up. Soften. He was almost as involved with the Dark Lord’s scheme as I was, but there was a noticeable difference between our countenances. A difference I envied. 

Malfoys weren’t supposed to envy anyone. At least, that’s what my father had always told me. And he was right. There was no reason for me to be envious of Blaise, not really. I had everything I could ever want, and if I wanted _for_ anything, I could easily have it. I always got what I wanted. But this time, I knew that I couldn’t have what I wanted, because peace wasn’t something money could buy. 

“Just checking on my sister, Malfoy.” Blaise countered in a clipped tone, and I rolled my eyes. 

“What is she, five?” I scoffed. “Why does she need her brother to check on her at all? Is she that helpless?” _Probably is_ . I surmised silently. Hufflepuffs were pathetic creatures. I didn’t see how any of them had the balls to do magic. _Pansies, the whole lot of them._

Blaise scowled at me darkly. “I wouldn’t _need_ to check on her if she was having to tutor anyone else, now would I?” 

My spine stiffened at that. “And what, exactly, are you implying, Zabini?” 

“I’m _implying,_ ” Blaise countered through gritted teeth. “That I don’t necessarily trust you to have her best interests in mind.” 

“Why would I?” It was an honest question, though in hindsight, probably one I should’ve kept to myself. Blaise’s eyes flashed so dangerously that even I became a little apprehensive. “I only meant--”

“I know what you meant,” Blaise bit out. “And know this: I would give my life for her. So by God, if you harm a _hair_ on her head, I will _personally_ make sure you regret it. Understood?”

All I could manage was a nod. I’d never seen Blaise so serious since I’d met him in 1st year. A lot of the time, his threats were empty, and we both knew it. But this time, I knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me if it meant protecting the She-Zabini. I hesitated for a moment, then let my curiosity get the better of me. 

“And you’d really give your life for her?”

“In a heartbeat.” 

I stared at him. “She’s not even related to you by blood!” _Her blood is impure_. I wanted to add, but refrained from doing so. 

“Some things are stronger than blood, Malfoy.” With those words, Blaise got up and left the Great Hall. I sighed; Breakfast was over, now. _And I have to meet with_ her, _soon._ I don’t know why, but for some reason, after my talk with Blaise, I was dreading it even more. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my best friend’s words out of my head. 

He would die for her. 

_“Some things are stronger than blood, Malfoy.”_

***

I arrived in the designated classroom before she did, just like yesterday. I’d used Potter’s cloak, even though I knew there was no real reason for me to. These halls were deserted at this time of the day, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I was _not_ about to be seen associating with the likes of her. 

“Malfoy?” came the She-Zabini’s voice after a moment, and I threw off Potter’s cloak, heaving a sigh. 

“Who else would it be, Zabini?” I asked with a scowl, turning to face the witch. She’d pulled her curls away from her face today, giving me a better view of her dark brown eyes, accenting her high cheekbones. She wasn’t terribly unpleasant to look at, I’d give her that. Her personality and the unfortunate status of her blood, however…

“Alright, let’s get started.” Zabini crossed the room, standing in front of the same podium as before. She’d brought a stack of books with her today; I arched an eyebrow at them. “Dumbledore gave me these as a point of reference. Muggle Studies textbooks.” 

“Delightful.” 

The witch ignored my comment as she flipped through one of the books. After a moment, she snapped it shut, returning her gaze to me. “Remember how I was telling you about those men that landed on the moon?” At my nod, she continued. “I wasn’t alive when it actually happened, of course, but like I said, I saw it on my telly.” 

Zabini set down the book she’d been holding, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “We’re going to go on a small journey, Malfoy. Dumbledore has given me permission, of course. Follow me.” Without another word, the Hufflepuff left the room, leaving me no choice but to follow after her. 

“Where are we going?” I caught up to her easily. The girl barely even glanced up at me when she replied. 

“You’ll see.” 

Before I could question her further, we were standing in front of Dumbledore’s office. I swallowed hard. “He gave you the password?” I wondered aloud when I could speak again. All at once, I was reminded of the Dark Lord’s task for me: to kill Dumbledore and give the Dark Lord access to Hogwarts. I could do it. I _had_ to do it. I had to, or else…

“Chocolate frogs,” Zabini recited from beside me, and my attention shifted to her once more. I smirked at that, but followed her inside the Headmaster’s office silently as the giant sphinx statue moved aside for us. Soon, she’d dragged me in front of the fireplace. 

“Cozy hangout and all, but I fail to see--”

“Shut up and take my hand, Malfoy.” She cut me off with a scowl, grabbing a bit of Floo powder from the bag hanging on the fireplace. I took a step away from her, glaring at her outstretched hand pointedly. 

“Over my dead body, Zabini!”

She-Zabini rolled her eyes. “Grab my bloody sleeve, then, you dramatic ninny!” Cursing, I grabbed the sleeve of her Hufflepuff robes, holding on firmly as she threw the powder into the fire and shouted, “Zabini Estate!” 

I wish I could tell you I landed gracefully at the Zabini residence, but I fell on my bum. The Hufflepuff stifled her laughter, offering me a hand, but I smacked it away, getting to my feet and brushing the dirt off my robes. “Let’s get on with it,” I grumbled irritably, and the insolent witch had the nerve to grin at me. 

“Follow me.” She grabbed my arm before I could protest, dragging me to the massive wooden doors of the estate. I had to admit, the Zabini’s had a beautiful home. There had to have been at least 10 bedrooms, from what I could tell looking at the outside of the house. A doorman was stationed in front of the doors, and he nodded to us as we approached. 

“Miss Zabini, good to see you. And her friend…?” 

“ _Hardly_ friends--” I protested, but Zabini dug her fingernails painfully into my arm, effectively silencing me. 

“This is Draco Malfoy, Gerrald. We won’t be long. Is everything set up?” Zabini gave the man -- Gerrald, it seemed-- a genuinely warm smile. I blinked, momentarily stunned. The smile completely transformed her face, turning her from barely tolerable to...tolerable. 

“Everything is set up, Miss.” Gerrald confirmed, returning her smile with one just as warm as hers had been. I wasn’t used to this, seeing such kind interactions between people, especially because Gerrald was the help. I couldn’t tell you a single name of the servants at Malfoy Manor. I certainly didn’t smile at them. I didn’t smile much to begin with, but still...servants needed to know their place. I’d have to talk to Zabini about that later. 

“Thanks!” Zabini beamed at the doorman before dragging me further into the house. I barely had any time to look around before we arrived in what seemed to be the sitting room. The witch finally let go of my arm when we stood in front of a black rectangular box that was mounted against the wall; I could see my reflection inside of it, and I absentmindedly patted stray hairs back into place. Zabini snorted. 

“Honestly, you’re as bad as Blaise,” She laughed once more before assuming her professor-like voice. “So. The men on the moon, yeah? Again, I was not alive when it happened, but I saw it on this.” She gestured to the box. I crossed my arms. 

“You saw them in this black box?” I sincerely doubted it. 

“This is our telly,” Zabini told me with a nod. “It’s...well there are all sorts of things you can watch on it.” Fascinated despite myself, I watched as she picked up a smaller, longer box from a coffee table and pointed it at the big black box. Suddenly, the box changed. 

“Merlin’s beard!” I cursed, watching in horror as I saw people moving around on the box. “How on Earth did they get in there?!” 

Zabini pursed her lips, obviously trying not to laugh at me, as I’d jumped several feet back, instinctively drawing my wand. “Please don’t hex the telly, Malfoy.” She pushed my wand down with her finger before grabbing my sleeve, dragging me closer to the box. I dug my heels in. 

“No! They’ll _see_ me! I can’t be seen associating--” 

“They can’t see you, Malfoy.” Zabini yanked on my sleeve with a grunt. I pointed at the screen, my eyes wide. 

“No, look! One of them just looked into my eyes, I swear it!” Before I had time to curse at the man or throw a good hex at him, he hurried away. “Yeah, that’s right, carry on!” I shouted after him. Zabini rolled her eyes. 

“This is the news, Malfoy. Blokes report on current events in the Muggle world. See there?” She pointed to a man in a suit who’d just walked into view. Some sort of round device was being held at his mouth as he spoke meaningless words into it. “Something must’ve happened downtown. They’re reporting from the street. That’s why there are all those people walking around.” 

“It...that’s the street right now?” I asked, somewhat dazed. What in Merlin’s name was this box? This had to be magical. “How?”

Surprisingly, Zabini’s expression had turned patient. “It’s kind of like a wizard’s photograph, except it never stops on one single thing. You’ve heard of cameras, yes?” I nodded mutely. “This is sort of like that, except it records things in continuous motion.” 

Ahh, that made a bit more sense. “That’s all it can do? Report real events? Sounds bloody boring.” 

Zabini laughed. “I agree. That’s why there are other channels.” She touched a button on the smaller box, and everything on the telly changed. A man and a woman were having an intense discussion. A rather dramatic one. It was sort of like watching one of those god-awful plays my mother dragged me to every year. 

“This...is like a play, yeah?” I ventured, hoping I’d gotten it right. I hated not knowing what I was doing, what I was talking about. It left me feeling rather powerless, and Malfoys are never powerless. Zabini looked surprised, but she nodded. 

“Sort of, yeah. They’re like longer plays, called movies.” 

I watched the box for another moment or two. With something like this around, I’d never get bored! It was almost hypnotizing. And she’d seen the actual moon on this? I was thankful I’d learned how to keep my expression stone-cold no matter what I was feeling. No way would I let her see how fascinated I was by this. 

Merlin, I’d been silent for too long. _Say something, you dolt._ “Let me see it.” 

Zabini looked up at me, her eyes curious. “See what?” 

I rolled my eyes. Gods, she was slow! “The _moon_ , you silly bint! I want to see the men landing on the moon.” 

Then, to my horror, Felicity Zabini gave me one of _those_ smiles. The same warm kind she’d given--what was that servant’s name? Jeffrey?--her bloody doorman. That smile made my stomach churn in an unfamiliar way, a way that made me uncomfortable. It was just...so _pure_ , so free of ill-will, free of _everything_. She smiled simply for the sake of it, smiled at _me_ just because she wanted to--and she meant it. What in the name of Salazar Slytherin was wrong with this girl? How could she smile at me like _that_ , with the way I treated her? What game was she playing? What did she _want_ from me? 

That was just it, though. Her eyes were so open and honest that I could tell she didn’t want anything from me at all. She was just happy--because I wanted to see the bloody moon? I choked back a laugh. 

_Merlin, if_ this _is what it’s like to be a Hufflepuff, I am never stepping foot near any of them once this is over._ No one but a Hufflepuff could be so nauseatingly _good_. I was pulled out of my musings when Zabini pulled out her wand, waving it at the box, making it change. All I could do was stare at her. “There are bloody _spells_ for these devil boxes?” 

All at once, the Hufflepuff’s smile vanished, and I felt my shoulders relax. This I could handle. “Just _watch_ the bloody telly, Malfoy, or you’ll miss it.” 

I looked back at the box, then did a double take. “I can’t see a thing.” It was true. Everything was a black and white blur. Still, I could hear the excitement in the voices on the television, and I suppose landing on the moon _was_ a big deal. Before I could stop myself, I let out a soft chuckle. 

Zabini’s gaze flew to mine, her eyes so wide it was comical. I glared at her. 

“You look like a possessed owl.” 

“You _laughed._ ” The witch accused, like _I_ was the one who had landed on the moon. I stiffened, turning my nose up at her. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied frostily, but the She-Zabini was unfazed. That infuriating smile was back as well. “Stop smiling at me, you obnoxious mutt!” This, of course, only made her smile widen, but it was different somehow, almost mocking. 

“I _heard_ you. But if you don’t believe me,” Her tone was patronizing. “We _do_ have a Pensieve in the other room. Care to review my memories?” One dark eyebrow lifted in a challenge, and in that moment, she reminded me of Blaise. She’d probably _learned_ that eyebrow lift from Blaise. 

“I’d rather die,” I spat, folding my arms across my chest, shooting daggers at her. “Besides, didn’t you tell George--” 

“Gerrald.” 

“--that we wouldn’t be staying long?” I finished, completely ignoring her interjection. Her dark eyes flashed at me. 

“I told _Gerrald_ that, yes.” And there she went, the defender of the servants. Did she not realize how highly inappropriately she acted? 

I snorted. “I don’t care what his name is, and neither should you. Not very befitting of the _lady of the house_ , now is it?” I was mocking her and she knew it, if the way her grip tightened on the “remote”, as she’d called it, was any indication. 

“I’m _not_ the lady of the house, Malfoy. That’s my mother you’re thinking of.” 

“And does Lady Zabini know the names of the servants?” I arched a pale eyebrow. Granted, I’d never met the woman, but just seeing her picture I knew that the answer was no. The woman had held herself too regally, too _familiarly_ , to have the gall to know anything about the help beyond what was necessary. 

It was interesting, the way the She-Zabini looked ashamed when she muttered, “She can’t be bothered.” 

“Hmm…” I drawled, smirking at her. “You could learn a thing or two from her, it seems.” 

The girl’s eyes flashed murderously this time, and before I knew what was happening, the remote flew at me and smacked me in the forehead. The Hufflepuff had her wand at my throat a heartbeat later. “I am _not,_ nor do I _ever_ aspire to be _anything_ like my mother.” 

I gaped at her, too flabbergasted to shove her away from me. “Did you just...throw the telly’s wand at me?” 

“The _what?_ ” 

“You know...the box that makes the telly change.” I could feel my cheeks flushing from embarrassment, but the fire in her eyes was gone as she bursted into laughter. 

“You called it the telly wand?” She gasped out between fits of giggles, and Merlin help me, her laughter was so contagious that I couldn’t contain my own laughter. I laughed even as I protested.

“You know what I meant!” 

“I’m using that from now on, that name.” She snorted. “When we’re on holiday I’ll ask Blaise to pass me the telly wand.” To my (embarrassingly!) great amusement, she sent _herself_ into another laughing fit at that. I rolled my eyes, even though I had to bite the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t start laughing again as well. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you little swot,” I shook my head ruefully, turning so she wouldn’t see the little smile that crossed my face. It felt so good to laugh; I couldn’t remember the last time that I had. 

Once she’d controlled herself, the Hufflepuff tapped my arm, and I turned, opening my mouth to tell her not to touch me, but the soft look in her eyes stopped me. It was so kind, so gentle...it reminded me of my mother, before the Dark Lord and my father overtook our lives and turned the world desolate and gray. I wished I could take the warmth in her gaze for myself. I wanted to feel something. Anything. But warmth had no place in my life. It hadn’t for quite some time.

“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have thrown the remote at you. We...we can be done for the day.” 

I’m sure we looked like a strange pair as we walked silently to the fireplace together. I watched Zabini out of the corner of my eyes as she grabbed a bit of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle. “Is your mother really so bad?” I don’t know why I asked. It wasn’t like I cared. But her silence was almost more disconcerting than her smile. She looked up at me again, her eyes surprised, then she sighed. 

“Honestly? Yes. Hogwarts!” Before I could even decide if I wanted her to elaborate, she stepped into the green flames, and once again, I had no choice but to follow her in her footsteps. 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Felicity

Wednesday. I could finally breathe, because I wouldn’t have to see him, wouldn’t even have to think about him. I was in a noticeably happier mood that morning at breakfast. Hannah actually laughed at me as I sat down next to her, whistling to myself. “Well someone’s in a good mood,” She teased with a grin, and I rolled my eyes at her. 

“Is that not allowed?” 

Hannah threw her napkin at me. “Of course it’s allowed, you ninny! You’re just happier than usual.” She stopped, holding up a hand. “Wait. I know why. You don’t have to tutor Malfoy today.” She raised a single blonde eyebrow at me, as if daring me to disagree. 

“Yep!” I chirped back with a huge grin, smiling at one of the kitchen elves who placed my breakfast in front of me before disappearing with a sharp pop. I dug in gratefully, feeling my best friend’s blue eyes on me but doing my best to ignore her. She remained silent until I looked up from my food. 

“What’s that look for, Hannah?” But I realized I knew what it was for. I put down my fork. She was giving me one of those looks that meant she wanted to lecture me about something. Fortunately, Hannah wasn’t one to remain silent for too long. 

“This isn’t like you.” She informed me seriously, and I frowned. What was she going on about? “I know that it’s Malfoy, but you’re never like this. The Felicity I know would never throw a remote at someone, no matter how angry she was.” I shouldn’t have told her about that incident when I had returned to the dorms. Hannah’s eyes softened when she saw my bewildered expression. 

“All I’m saying is that you’re kind, Fee. To _everyone_. You always have been. You’ve been the biggest source of light and warmth in my life since we were 12. And I really think…” She hesitated briefly. “I really think that Malfoy could use someone like in his life as well. Everyone could use someone like you, obviously.” Hannah bumped my shoulder playfully, like she used to do when we were small. I laughed, bumping her back. 

“I doubt _he_ would see it that way,” I began with a snort, but at Hannah’s sharp look, amended, “ _But_ I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise, okay?” 

My best friend opened her mouth, most likely to object, when suddenly owls began to sweep down into the Great Hall, delivering the post. There was so much hooting -- both from the students _and_ the owls -- that it was impossible to speak for a moment. I hadn’t been expecting anything. Mum never wrote to me, my father was dead, and Blaise’s father...well, he was nice enough, but he was a stranger. I’d really only met him at the wedding, and briefly at that, so I was a bit startled when an owl dropped a small envelope into my lap. 

“Who’s that from?” Hannah leaned in to read it, frowning when she saw, seconds after I did, that only my name was written on the front. I opened the envelope, pulling out a small piece of parchment. 

_Miss Zabini,_

_I apologize for such a public delivery method. Would you be so kind as to meet with me in my office once you have finished your breakfast? I have already notified your Professors._

_Professor Dumbledore_

“What’d you do this time?” Hannah joked, and I swatted her arm. 

***

I stood in front of Dumbledore’s giant sphinx statue once more, feeling a strong sense of deja vu. He hadn’t mentioned otherwise, so I figured the password was the same. “Chocolate frogs?” I asked, feeling a little stupid for talking to a statue, magical or not, but the thing actually winked at me before sliding back and letting me through. _Alright then._

“Professor?” I called hesitantly, glancing around his office briefly. Somehow it felt intrusive to stare at the Headmaster’s things for too long, so I kept my eyes on my hands after that, hoping I wouldn’t be left waiting long. 

“Miss Zabini, welcome back.” I looked up as the old man entered the room, seemingly out of nowhere. I wondered where he’d come from, but it’d be impolite to ask. Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled with good humor, and I felt my cheeks redden with embarrassment. 

“I hope I’m not in trouble again.” I gave him a tiny smile, one he returned with a chuckle. 

“Not this time, Miss Zabini. Please, take a seat.” The old man then proceeded to sit down at the rather large chair behind his desk. I had no choice but to plop into one of the chairs in front of his desk. I straightened my shoulders, sitting almost primly in my seat. I probably looked too much like my mother just then, but I wanted to look as professional as possible. Dumbeledore seemed to sense this, as he gave me another kindly smile. 

“You can relax, Miss Zabini. I haven’t brought you here to send you to Azkaban.” 

I felt my shoulders relax. “That’s good to hear, at least. Er, if you don’t mind my asking, though, why _have_ you called me here?”

Dumbledore studied me over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. “How are your tutoring sessions progressing with Mr. Malfoy?” 

Out of all the things he could’ve said next, I wasn’t expecting for him to say _that._ “They’re...they’re fine, sir.” Then something occurred to me. “Has he filed some sort of complaint against me?” _Sounds like something he’d do._ I thought to myself, fighting the urge to slam my head on the desk. Once again, Dumbledore seemed to understand what I was thinking. He chuckled lightly. 

“No, Miss Zabini. In fact, I haven’t heard from the young Malfoy since he was in here the last time with you.” Dumbledore steepled his fingers together, humming thoughtfully. I squirmed uncomfortably. What was he getting at? “What have you taught him about so far?”

“Only Muggle televisions and photographs, sir. I did show him the video of the Americans landing on the moon, as well as the local Muggle news that was airing at the time.” 

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. “Very good places to start. How did he react to these inventions?” 

I choked on a laugh. “He...had never seen such things, sir. I do believe it scared him. The television especially.” I cracked a smile then, unable to help myself. To my surprise, even the Headmaster looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“I see. And what of his prejudice?” 

Had he expected Malfoy’s prejudice to go away overnight? _If it even goes away at all_ , I told myself. Tutoring sessions about the Muggle world weren’t going to transform someone like Draco Malfoy. Not when he had a father whose mind was so full of prejudice that he probably didn’t have room for anything else. “He asks some questions, but he still sneers at everything I’ve told him about so far.” 

“The fact that he is asking questions is a positive sign. Mr. Malfoy is, at the very least, curious. Keep up the good work.” Dumbledore beamed at me, and I gave him a shy smile of thanks. “Now, for next week's lesson, I was curious. Do you have a favorite place in the Muggle world, Miss Zabini? Somewhere you would be willing to show him? I understand you attended an American primary school before you came to Hogwarts.”

“I did, yes.” I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “My father knew I’d get my Hogwarts letter when I was 12, but he insisted upon Muggle schooling before then. I went to the same school he did.” 

The Headmaster’s expression softened. “My dear girl, I am very sorry for your loss. Do let us know if there is anything we at Hogwarts can do for you.”

The lump in my throat only grew. Tears welled up in my eyes that threatened to leak out of my eyes, but I blinked them back stubbornly, determined to hold it together. “Thank you.” I whispered when I could trust myself to speak without bursting into tears. “The school is in Columbus, Ohio, sir. I can take Mal-Draco there.”

“Excellent!” Dumbledore clapped his hands, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I shall give you an International Portkey this weekend. Remember,” His face became stern. “Do not use your magic in front of Muggles. Do your best to blend in.” The sparkle returned to his eyes. “Your robes, for example, will make you stick out like a sore thumb. Make sure that is remedied immediately.”

“Of course, sir.” I bowed my head in acknowledgement, then peeked up at him curiously. “Is...is that all, sir?”

“Just one more thing and you are free to go, Miss Zabini.” He replied quietly. I straightened in the chair again, wondering what else there could be. 

“Yes?” 

All at once, I noticed how tired Dumbledore looked. The bags under his eyes looked like bruises. His face was pale, his face drawn together with a subtle pain. I desperately wanted to ask what was ailing him, but it wasn’t any of my business. The Headmaster sighed softly. 

“Many students have walked these halls before you, Miss Zabini. Many will follow. I’ve seen many of those students come and go, I’ve watched them grow and mature from nervous first years to mature witches and wizards, and I’ve done so for a long time.” I arched an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. “All that to say, Miss Abbott is right.”

I stared at him, stunned. “W-what do you mean, sir?”

“Your soul is among the sweetest to have graced these halls, Miss Zabini. You are genuinely kind, and you bring light to everyone you meet. Do you know how rare that is nowadays, Miss Zabini? Especially when we are all on edge at Voldemort’s return?”

I flinched at the name, but the headmaster continued as if I hadn’t moved a muscle. 

“The soul is a fascinating thing. One’s spirit, you might call it.” Dumbledore mused. “When tragedy strikes, it strikes the soul as well. Most people curl up within themselves when faced with tragedy, lock their emotions away, never to be seen again. After all, it is painful to love what tragedy can touch. Tragedy struck your soul but did not force it into hiding.” His expression softened once more. “It is painful to love what death can touch, but you have remained the same despite the pain. Your father would be proud.”

I wanted to disagree with him. I wanted to tell him that I _had_ changed, that losing my father made me lose a part of myself that I would never get back. I wanted to tell him that I was _mad,_ that it was unfair that my father was dead. What kind of light could I possibly bring to anyone when I was so heartbroken? And he was wrong. It was downright _terrifying_ to love what death could touch, what death took away from me. I could only manage a nod before I stood up to leave his office. 

“Miss Zabini.” The Headmaster’s voice had taken on a fatherly tone. I stopped in the doorway but didn’t turn. “Miss Abbott was also correct in saying that Draco could use your light. Perhaps give him a little. He’ll need it.” 

***

The rest of the week flew by at an alarming rate. As promised, Dumbledore gave me the International Portkey over the weekend, and before I knew it, Monday had arrived. The Headmaster stopped me in the corridor as I was leaving Potions that morning, headed to meet Malfoy. 

“Good morning, Miss Zabini. I’ve already told Mr. Malfoy, but you need to pack an overnight bag.” My eyes widened at that, and I opened my mouth to speak, but Dumbledore plowed on. “International Portkey travel shouldn’t be done in a single day. It’s incredibly dangerous. I have, of course, already made the hotel arrangements.” 

“Great.” I muttered, all but rolling my eyes at the man, who gave me a pointed look. 

“Remember what we discussed. Have a safe trip.” 

I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment, so I just nodded. Well, that certainly would’ve been a nice bit of information to know _before_ I agreed to the trip, but I supposed there was no backing out of it now. My thoughts swirled as I made my way back to the common room. I gathered what I’d need for my overnight bag, packing it in somewhat of a daze. How on Earth was I going to get through this? I sighed, double-checking that the Portkey was still in my pocket. I palmed the tiny handheld mirror. 

“Ready to go?” Hannah had been permitted to help me pack. I looked down at my best friend, wanting to cry at the familiar kindness in her blue eyes. She grabbed my hand, pulling me down to sit on her bed beside her. I shook my head. 

“Nope. Not even close.” 

Hannah snorted. “Yeah, I don’t blame you there. I’d sooner spend my birthday with You-Know-Who than Draco Malfoy. But look on the bright side, Fee. You can visit home, visit _him_.” 

I hadn’t thought about that. I nodded. That was something, at least. I wrapped my arms around my best friend, giving her a sweet hug. “Make sure you take good notes for me, okay?”

“Of course.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “What do you take me for?” 

I shook my head as I stood, laughing. This had definitely been a blessing. My best friend always had a way of making me feel better. “Alright, I guess I should go.” I squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Han. Love ya.” 

“Love you, too.” She squeezed my hand back before giving me a gentle shove towards the door. “Now quit stalling. Go.”

“Yes, mother.”

“I take offense to that!” Hannah yelled as I shut the door with a snicker. I walked out of my house, ignoring the stares and whispers of my housemates. As it turned out, Malfoy was waiting for me outside of the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. 

“Took you long enough, mutt,” he drawled with an infuriating smirk, his bag over one shoulder. 

“Oh, shut up.” I grumbled, gripping the strap of my own bag while I fished the Portkey out of the pocket of my robes. I extended my hand so that the mirror laid flat on my palm, and I curled my fingers over the edges. I looked up at Malfoy. “I’m assuming you’ve used one of these before, so you know the drill. Grab on. It’ll activate in 10 seconds.”

Malfoy let out a long-suffering sigh before wrapping a hand around my wrist, making sure he was touching the mirror as well. “Let’s just get this over with, Zabini.” 

“Agreed,” I snapped, right before the portkey shimmered and we were swept away.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Draco

I could think of about a million things I would have preferred to be doing at the time, but there I was, arriving somewhere overseas with Blaise’s annoying sister. Dumbledore, the annoying snot, hadn’t even told me where we were going, only that I needed to pack a bag to remain there overnight. 

I snickered when Felicity fell upon our landing at our destination. I, of course, landed smoothly on my feet. She scowled at me. “Sod off, Malfoy.” I watched, bemused, as she stood back up, slinging her bag over her shoulder, dusting off her robes. I lifted my own bag to my shoulder, arching a brow at her. 

“Care to share where we are, Zabini?” It had been morning when we left Hogwarts. Wherever we were now, it was pitch black outside, the only light coming from the street lamps ahead. I glanced at my watch, which had magically changed to match the time-zone we were in. 12:40 A.M.

“We’re in the States,” Zabini told me at last. “Columbus, Ohio, to be exact.”

My lip curled. We were in the _States_? What in the name of Salazar Slytherin were we doing there? Fortunately, the street we were standing on seemed to be deserted, so we could speak freely. “And we’re here _why_ , exactly?” 

The She-Zabini began to walk, reading from a piece of parchment. I caught up to her in a few long strides. “I was born here. Dumbledore asked me if there was a part of the Muggle world that was my favorite. I chose my hometown.” When she saw that I was looking at the parchment, she added, “These are directions to the hotel.” 

“Lovely.” I hoped the arrangements were suitable. Surely Dumbledore would give us a comfortable place to sleep, even if it was only for one night. I followed behind Zabini, squinting into the night, trying to make out details about our location. Despite the late hour, the city was teeming with life. Square-shaped buildings, some of the tallest I’d ever seen, glittered in the inky skyline. It was beautiful, in a way, all of the lights and tall structures, the hum of the city in the distance. 

I was so caught up in my musings that I barely noticed that we were now inside an opulent hotel lobby. Zabini approached the desk with ease, and I scowled. Of course _she_ would be comfortable around all of these Muggles. 

“Hullo!” She greeted the tired-looking woman behind the desk, who seemed to brighten at the mutt’s accent. “I believe we have a room reserved?” She gestured back to me, and I stepped forward reluctantly. 

“What’s the name, sweetie?” The woman asked Zabini, who shot me a nervous look; She didn’t know whose name the room was under. 

“Um...Felicity Zabini?”

The woman flipped through a few files before looking back up at Zabini. “Here we go, honey. Enjoy your stay.” The odd Muggle winked at us then, and I frowned, rushing to follow Zabini, who, between the two of us, knew where we were supposed to go. 

“The hell was that about?” I hissed to her as we walked towards a door with some sort of button to the left of it. Zabini pressed the button before she answered my question. 

“I think she thought we were newlyweds or something,” the Hufflepuff replied, strolling inside the doors that opened with a little chime. I choked as I followed her. 

“She _what_?” 

Zabini rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t worry, Malfoy. I wouldn’t marry you even if you were the last person on Earth.” She glanced down at the card the woman had given her, then pressed another button. The doors closed with the same chime. To my horror, the little room began to move upwards. 

I gripped the metal railings apprehensively, my knuckles white. Zabini looked up at me, giving me an odd look before her expression smoothed over. She gave me a knowing smirk. I growled. “Amused, Zabini?”

“This is an elevator,” She informed me with a grin, enjoying the look of fear on my face. “It’s a means of transport in tall buildings like this.” The doors opened with a chime yet again. “Come along, Malfoy. This is our floor.”

I grumbled but followed the stupid witch down yet another hallway. Eventually, Zabini stopped in front of a door that had the number 111 on it, unlocking it with the room key the woman had given her. I stepped warily inside, expecting the worst.

To my pleasant surprise, I saw that it wasn’t half bad when Zabini turned on the lights. Dumbledore had gotten us a room with a wide-open living area, with another one of those tellys on a wooden table of some kind. Beyond the living space were two regular sized beds. I set my bag on one of them and turned to the She-Zabini, who had apparently done the same, only she’d begun to unpack some of her things. 

“Sure, just make yourself at home, why don’t you.” I smirked, which earned me a glare.

“That _is_ the point of a hotel, Malfoy.” Zabini had a small bag—probably for her woman toiletries, my mum had a similar bag—as well as a pair of pajamas in hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. We should get some sleep; everything’s closed right now anyway.” With that, she marched towards the bathroom, shutting the door with a firm click. I snickered as I heard her lock it as well. Like I’d even be tempted to barge in there. 

I used a spell to clean my teeth since Zabini had taken up residence in the only bathroom. I changed out of my robes quickly, pulling on a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old Slytherin T-shirt before slipping into the bed I’d claimed for our stay. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and I was asleep before Zabini returned from the bathroom. 

***

The next morning, voices, more than one of them, jolted me awake. Instinctively, I grabbed my wand, which I’d placed on the table beside my bed. I threw back the comforter, hopping off the bed and inching towards the voices, my wand clenched tightly in my right hand. I wondered where Zabini was. Had the voices captured her somehow? Inch by inch, I made my way into the living space. Zabini glanced up as I entered, arching an eyebrow. 

“Is there an intruder that I don’t know about hiding under the bed, Malfoy?” 

I blinked. Her hair hung in wet, curly brown strands that were almost black when damp. I caught a strong whiff of her ever-present scent; So it was a shampoo. The way her hair framed her face made her dark brown eyes look larger, more innocent. The thought caused me to shift into a defensive mode once more. 

“I heard men’s voices. More than one of them.” I told her with gritted teeth, my voice roughened from disuse. Much to my chagrin, the little twit began to laugh. 

“It’s just the morning news, Malfoy.” Her eyes danced as she gestured to the telly, and I spun around to face it, my wand hand extended. The witch rolled her eyes when I didn’t lower my wand.. “Honestly, they’re not going to jump out of the screen or anything. We’re safe. Now for Merlin’s sake, lower your wand!” She proceeded to point to a countertop. “I got you some breakfast.”

Slowly, I lowered my wand, giving the telly suspicious looks as I walked to the counter, sitting on one of the stools and beginning to eat. Zabini had unknowingly gotten my favorite: scrambled eggs with a side of sausage. Not a true English breakfast, I know, but it had become my favorite after one of the new house elves accidentally scrambled my eggs instead of boiling them. I’d been wary at first, but once I’d tasted them, I requested them nearly every morning when I was home at the Manor. 

I finished chewing before I asked, “Where are you dragging me off to today?” 

A troubled shadow crossed her features so quickly that I was sure I’d imagined it, because next thing I knew, she was smirking at me, once again reminding me of Blaise. “First order of business: we need to get new clothes.” 

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” I sneered. “But my family is incredibly wealthy. I have enough clothes to fit in an entire room at the Zabini estate. I can’t speak for you, however.” I swept her attire with my gaze, curling my lip. Zabini huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“And I’m not sure if _you_ noticed, but we’re in the Muggle world right now. We can’t go out in public wearing our robes.”

I frowned, genuinely confused. “Why not? Everyone wears robes.”

“Everyone in the _wizarding_ world, yes. Muggles have a different style.” 

I didn’t bother to point out that despite what she said, she was wearing her uniform. A white button-down shirt with a yellow Hufflepuff tie, along with a skirt, tights, and loafers. It wasn’t an entirely bad look on her; I could admit that she had nice legs, being as tall as she was. 

“But if you don’t believe me,” She continued, oblivious to my musings. “You’ll find out on the way to the store. Get changed; I’ll be waiting here for you.” Zabini turned her attention to the telly once more, waving me away, as if I were a pesky fly. I scowled but did as I was told. 

***

“That was humiliating!” I whined as Zabini dragged me into a store called Macy’s. I’d complained that it sounded like a frou frou store, but the Hufflepuff assured me that they sold men’s clothes as well. “The way they snickered at my robes! They’re perfectly respectable, thank you very much.” I stood up straighter, trying to appear dignified. 

“Like I said, the style is different here.” Zabini replied as she pulled me by my wrist into a large section of men’s clothing. “Plaid skirts seem to be in, so I’ll be okay for a little bit.” She began to shift through the racks. “Now, what’s your size?” Only at that question did she look up to meet my eyes once more. 

“Pardon?” 

“Your _clothes_ , Malfoy. What size do you wear in shirts and pants?” 

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, floundering for a moment, before admitting, “I haven’t the foggiest idea. The house elves custom-tailor everything I wear.” 

Zabini rolled her eyes, muttering, “Of course they do.” She stepped back from a rack of shirts, looking me up and down appraisingly. I smirked lazily at her. 

“Enjoying the view, Zabini?”

Her eyes snapped back up to my face. “You wish. I was sizing you up.” She turned to the rack of shirts once more, grabbing a handful and thrusting them at me. 

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?”

“I can’t carry all of those myself, Malfoy!” She huffed, moving to a table to inspect some sort of pants with a blue fabric I’d never seen before. 

“I’m not your bloody servant!”

“Go find someone who works here, then! See if they’ll put them in a fitting room.”

What in the bloody name of Salazar Slytherin was a fitting room? Fortunately, the shirts were taken out of my hands. Unfortunately, it was a Muggle, who was beaming at me. “Hi there! Want me to start--”

I smacked her hand away so she wasn’t touching the fabric. “Get your filthy hands _off_ , you deranged woman. Show me to the fitting room before I--” 

“What’s going on?” Zabini seemed to materialize next to me with an armful of those weird blue pants. The saleswoman gave the mutt a nervous look. 

“I--I was just trying to hel-”

“This _Mug-”_

Zabini stepped on my foot discreetly but hard enough to get the point across. I cursed under my breath, glaring at her. _Stupid witch._ She’d pay for that later. 

“He just needs an outfit to spend the day in,” Zabini told the Muggle with a polite smile. “I’m afraid we didn’t pack well for the weather.” It was kind of incredible how easily the Muggle woman relaxed at the Hufflepuff’s words.

“Visiting from overseas?” She asked Zabini conversationally as she walked towards what must’ve been the fitting rooms. _Finally_. 

“Yes,” Zabini nodded. “We’ve got one more day before we return tomorrow.” The lie slid easily off her tongue, and I wondered if she’d been practicing.

The woman chuckled as she unlocked one of the fitting rooms, hanging up the stack of shirts inside. “Ah, I see. Doing some last minute shopping with your boyfriend, then?”

I choked on my own spit. I coughed violently, causing Felicity to thump me on the back a few times. The saleswoman looked alarmed and amused at the same time. “We’re not--”

“Yes, well, go on and try these on, _darling_.” Her tone dripped with what only I would know to be faux sweetness, and I glared daggers at her. 

“Whatever you say, _love_.” I bit back, lifting my chin and walking into the fitting room, slamming the door behind me. Beyond the door, I heard the saleswoman chuckle. 

“Oh, you two are so cute! Let me know if you need anything, okay?” I was relieved when I heard the Muggle walk off. I tugged on one of the Slytherin green shirts. It seemed to fit all right. I frowned. Now, what was I to do with these blue pants? 

It took me a bit, but I finally managed to pull them on and button them properly. Thankfully they fit as well. “How goes it in there?” Zabini asked from the other side of the door, and I opened it to see her lounging in a corner chair. Her brown gaze swept my attire quickly before she nodded with approval. “Much better. Keep that on and wear these shoes,” She tossed a pair of shoes at me, which I caught easily. I _was_ a Seeker, thank you very much. “I’ll buy those and get something for myself.”

I regarded her coldly. “Who says I can’t buy my own clothes?’

Zabini let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through her curls. “I’m sure you can, Malfoy, but do you keep American currency on you?” 

“What?” _Why would I need to do that?_

“Exactly.” Zabini sniffed self-importantly. “Put the shoes on and let’s go.” 

***

Surprisingly, it didn’t take the She-Zabini a long time to find an outfit for herself. She chose a teal-colored sweater tucked into what I learned were called “jeans”. A belt looped around her waist, and she wore shoes similar to my own. I studied her out of the corner of my eye. The color suited her. 

“Where to next?” I asked curiously, as Zabini was indeed walking with purpose, like she knew where she was going. The witch stiffened beside me, that same shadow passing over her features, and this time I knew I hadn’t imagined it. 

“I’m...going to visit someone before we make our next stop.” She told me quietly after a moment, subdued. 

I groaned. When women visited someone, they usually took a _long_ time. This visit would most likely last all day. I knew that for a fact; my mum would visit people all the time, leaving me alone for hours on end. “Just don’t take too long, mutt. I’d hate to miss dinner.” 

Zabini shot me a dirty look but didn’t reply, speeding up, seeming to spot our destination. I hurried to catch up with her. My eyes widened. “Why on Earth are we in a cemetery, Zabini?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so short, but I think you’ll forgive me as you read on! :)

Chapter 11: Felicity

I glared at Malfoy. “Like I said, I’m here to visit someone. Just...find somewhere to sit, okay?” I strode ahead of him without waiting for a response. 

The sunlight streaming through the trees felt wrong. The warmth on my skin felt wrong. Images flashed through my mind. The officers who showed up at our front door, giving us the news. The visitation, where hundreds of people whom my father had impacted in one way or another passed through. I’m sure they told me their stories, but I heard none of them. After that was the graveside service. 

I blinked, stopping in front of his grave. I knelt, running a finger over the words etched in stone. _Hubert Alfred Cannon. Beloved husband, father, and friend._ I couldn’t bear to read the dates of his birth and death. It was too raw, too fresh. I lowered my body into a sitting position. 

“Hey, Dad.” I whispered after a moment, not caring if Malfoy could hear me. “So, um...survived another year around the sun today. 16 years. If you were here, you’d probably tell me how old I’m getting.” I laughed a little, glancing down at my hands, which I’d folded in my lap. 

“School’s going well. I’m here on a sort of school project, so I figured I’d come say hello.” I took a steadying breath. “Dumbledore has me teaching a fellow student more about this world, and that’s...been a challenge.” I sighed. “I know you didn’t always understand a lot of the aspects of my world, but...it would basically be like training a Nazi to tolerate the Jewish culture. I’ll let you know how it goes later, I suppose.” 

I glanced around, wondering where Malfoy had gotten off to. After a moment, I spotted him lounging on one of the benches placed on the outskirts of the graveyard. I turned back to my father’s grave, my breath catching. 

“I..I miss you terribly, Dad. Mum’s just...she’s not been the same since you died. We barely even speak anymore. Then she got remarried, so _quickly,_ Dad. It was so fast. How did she do it?” My throat tightened. “How did she move on so quickly? It doesn’t even seem like she misses you. It’s like…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “It’s like I have to miss you all by myself, and I can’t _take_ it sometimes.” When I opened my eyes again, tears spilled onto my cheeks. I swiped them away hurriedly. 

“It’s not _fair_ , Dad.” I whispered brokenly. “It’s not bloody fair. How am I supposed to continue without you? Y-you won’t even see me graduate from Hogwarts. You won’t walk me down the aisle on my wedding day. I suppose Blaise will do that.” I sighed. “Blaise has been a good part of this whole thing. You’d like him, Dad.” I took in another lungful of air. 

“Weird how I’m sitting in a cemetery on my birthday,” My lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Malfoy doesn’t even know it’s my birthday. He wouldn’t care anyway. But we’re here, and I just thought...I just thought I’d say hello.” I looked around to make sure no Muggles were in sight before Transfiguring a rock into a bouquet of fresh pink roses. 

“These are my favorites, as you know.” I stated in a shaky voice, placing them gently on his grave. “Just a hello from me I suppose.” I bowed my head, more tears slipping down my cheeks. I wiped at my eyes with shaky hands. 

“I-I’m sorry, Dad.” My voice broke. “Mum...Mum said that you died because I had called, too excited for you to come home. I had just gotten home from Hogwarts for Christmas. I was so excited to see you. Mum said...if I hadn’t called, then…” I choked back a sob, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks now. 

“God, I hope that’s not true. Tell me that’s not true.” I begged, not sure to whom I was even begging. “I couldn’t...I didn’t mean for it to happen. Please don’t be mad at me, Dad. I’m so sorry.” I flung my arms over the headstone, resting my forehead against it, beginning to weep in earnest. 

  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Draco

  
I looked on helplessly as I saw Zabini weeping a little ways away from me. I didn’t know what to do. Should I have gone over there and comforted her somehow? I nearly scoffed at the thought. She wouldn’t want my comfort. I squinted, trying to read the tombstone. Before I could do so, however, I felt someone sit down next to me on the bench. I turned, reaching for my wand, but the stranger held up their hands. 

“Take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you.” A man’s baritone spoke with an American accent, his tone kind. 

The man was around my father’s age, with fair skin, turquoise-blue eyes, and had wispy light brown hair that was cut a bit shorter than my own. I frowned. “Who the Hell are you?” I snapped, glancing over at Zabini again, wondering how we’d be able to escape without magic, since this man was clearly a Muggle. He followed my gaze. 

“She’s too young to experience such grief,” His eyes softened when he focused on the weeping witch. “Terrible, don’t you think?”

I blinked, suddenly uncomfortable, as he’d turned his blue eyes back to meet mine. “I--yeah, yeah I suppose.” I hesitated. “She...she said something about an accident. Around Christmas time.” I knew who was buried there now. It was her father’s headstone Zabini was weeping against. The man nodded, his expression haunted. 

“What’s your name?” He asked me after a moment, still watching Zabini. 

“Draco, sir.” 

“That’s a very unique name,” The man commented, his eyes shining with amusement, which annoyed me. I sat up straighter, lifting my chin. 

“Like yours is better,” I shot back defensively, folding my arms. The Muggle laughed. 

“Yours is definitely better.” He assured me, then hesitated. “Call me Hugh.” 

There was something odd about the way he introduced himself, like he wasn’t sure what name he wanted to use, and I eyed him suspiciously. “Pleasure.” I turned my eyes back to Felicity, who was still crying. 

“Are you friends with her?” Hugh wondered quietly, examining me. I snorted. 

“Hardly. We’re being forced to work together by our headmaster.” 

Hugh hummed thoughtfully, folding his arms. “Not from the States, obviously.” He noted with a little smile, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Mother would kill me if she saw me roll my eyes at a stranger. 

“Our school is in Scotland.” I told him with a nod. “But the students come from all over.”

It was silent for a moment before the man spoke again. “Why don’t you get along?”

 _Bloody curious, isn’t he?_ “I-well, my best mate is her stepbrother, so that’s already bloody weird.” I wrinkled my nose. “And she’s...a know-it-all, and she’s slapped me in the face more than one girl should-”

“Did you provoke her?” Hugh interrupted, turning to face me, his lips twitching with a smile. I gaped at him. 

“Does it matter?”

“Absolutely. She wouldn’t harm a fly otherwise.” 

If it was possible, my jaw dropped even further. Did this man _know_ her? “You’re barmy.”

“And you didn’t answer my question, Draco.” The man fixed me with a stern look. I threw up my hands in frustration. 

“God, you’re starting to sound like Blaise!” I chewed on my lip, then scowled. “Fine. Maybe I did. What’s it to you?” 

The man sighed, turning back around to resume watching Felicity. For the first time, I began to notice...he _looked_ solid, but there was something off about him. Temporary. “I can’t stay here much longer,” he murmured, and my jaw dropped yet again, because then I knew. 

“You’re him.”

Hugh turned his eyes to me again. His gaze had turned solemn. “She can’t see me. It’s--” He hesitated. “It’s probably better that way, honestly. But I--” Her father drew in a ragged breath, his breath hitching as he watched his daughter cry. “I wanted to make sure she had someone. You know, to rely on. Her mother...well, her mother blames her for my death. She even said so to her face.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “But Zab-Felicity said it was a...car accident. She wasn’t even there.” 

Her father shook his head sadly. “That’s why she can’t see me. She hasn’t seen death. But you, Draco...you’ve seen people take their last breath, and I’m sorry.”  
  


I jerked away from him at that. “I don’t need your pity,” I snapped harshly, but it didn’t seem to faze Hugh. He patted my shoulder. 

“The point is...just, look out for her, would you?” he was almost begging me then. “I don’t trust her mother.”

I bit my lip. “I...I actually had wondered if she’d been, you know...struck at home. She flinches away from me if I raise my hand too quickly.”

Her father’s eyes flashed with anger then, and for a moment I was truly afraid of him, and _very_ glad that anger wasn’t directed towards me. Muggle or not, I’d put money on the fact that Hugh could throw a good punch if he wanted. “That’s...not surprising.” He admitted through gritted teeth, putting his head in his hands for a moment. I squirmed on the bench, unsure of what to say, so I kept silent until he looked up again. 

“This...Blaise fellow. He’s your best friend and her stepbrother?” 

I nodded, wondering why he was asking. 

Hugh’s blue eyes softened. Briefly, I wondered where Zabini had gotten her brown eyes from. _Probably her mum, you idiot_. 

“And he looks after her?” 

I scowled at that, but I found that I couldn’t lie to this man. “Yes. At first I didn’t--” I took a breath. “I _still_ don’t quite understand it, but he loves her like she’s his flesh and blood.” I smirked a bit at that. When I looked back at Hugh, tears were shining in his eyes. 

Sweet Salazar, was _everyone_ in this family prone to crying spells? “You tell Blaise thank you...for loving my only child. He didn’t have to love her, and he does.” The man wiped at his eyes discreetly, and against my own will, I felt my own throat tightening with emotion. I swallowed hard. 

“I will, sir.”

Hugh nodded, turning his eyes back to Zabini. This time, he wore a gentle smile. “She’s so beautiful,” he whispered. I looked at her again. She was still crying. Her cheeks were splotchy and her eyes were a bit swollen from her tears. I snorted. 

“As a hippogriff.” 

Her father elbowed me in the ribs in a fatherly manner, though I could tell he didn’t understand my reference. “You’ll see soon enough, I’m sure, that that’s not what I mean. But since she’s my only child, I will say that she’s gorgeous.” 

I chuckled awkwardly, tugging at the sleeves of the shirt I’d gotten from that godforsaken store. “I’m...it’s good, that you got to see her again. Even if she’s crying her eyes out.” 

“Do me a favor, Draco.” Her father said, looking at me seriously. The man would likely never see his daughter again, so I nodded. “Make her smile. Just once, before I go.” 

I stared at him for a moment, stunned. That was it? But how on Earth was I to go about that? “But what--” I started to say, but when I next looked, Hugh was gone. “Perfect,” I grumbled, getting to my feet. “Bloody convenient, mate. Learn that trick stuck in limbo, did you?” 

Hesitantly, carefully, I made my way over to Zabini, who, thankfully, had stopped crying, instead just sniffling and shivering. I knelt down next to her. “Hey…” I greeted her hesitantly, and she turned her brown eyes up to my face. She wiped her eyes, giving me a small wave. That gesture made my heart squeeze inside my chest, as the witch looked so utterly _defeated_. It looked wrong, somehow. “It’s...rather cold out here. Maybe you should sit down for a second, yeah?” 

I would’ve denied it later, but there was no one around, and right then, she needed a friend--so I kept my voice as soft as I could make it. The Hufflepuff just continued to stare at me, seeming emotionally spent. “There’s a bench over there,” I motioned with my hand, still kneeling at her side. “Let’s go sit. This can’t be comfortable.” I held out my hand slowly, taking care not to startle her. Zabini stared at my hand, doubt flickering in her eyes. 

“It’s okay, Felicity.” I stumbled a bit over her name, but kept going. “I’m not teasing you. Not right now.” 

After a moment, she took my hand, letting me pull her to her feet. I took her other hand, leading her gently around the pink roses she’d left on her father’s grave so she wouldn’t step on them. Once we’d gotten past the flowers, I dropped her hands but pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her to the bench. I sat down next to her. 

“I smell his cologne,” she whispered after a moment, and she looked like she might burst into tears all over again, and I scrambled to think of something to say to prevent that. 

“Well, that’s odd.” I drawled, cracking a smile. “...think the ghosts run around the area and torment people like Peeves does at Hogwarts?”

I was startled when she let out a laugh. “I sincerely hope not. One Peeves in the world is enough.” To my dismay, her smile quickly fell. Her lip trembled, and while she didn’t start sobbing again, tears streamed down her cheeks. “I--I’m sorry, I just...the smell...it’s like he was _here_.” 

_He_ was _here._ I wanted to tell her. I felt my cold heart crack, just a tiny bit, because the unfairness of the situation hit me. I’d just seen her father, had a bloody conversation with him, and all she could smell was his cologne. It was cheap compared to what I’d seen, who I’d met.. I scooted closer to her, feeling quite helpless. “Please don’t cry,” I begged. “I never know what to say. Mum always ends up hitting me when I try to comfort her. Says I’m rubbish at it.” 

I felt a flicker of triumph when she smiled again. One of those genuine Felicity smiles, as I came to call them. “Maybe that’s because most of the time, we don’t want you to say anything. We just want a hug.” With that, the Hufflepuff threw her arms around me, burying her face into my new shirt. I scrunched my nose. _Come on, Zabini, this is brand new!_ But when I felt her shoulders begin to shake, I realized she was weeping again, and I shoved those thoughts away. I wrapped my arms around her, not saying anything, just absentmindedly patting her back, letting her cry on my brand new shirt. 

Then, her father stood in front of us. He held a finger to his lips as he watched his daughter, a tender yet heartbroken smile on his face. He seemed to be memorizing her features, so he could remember them when he was gone. Hugh reached forward, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. Zabini was still crying, so she’d probably contribute it to the wind. Then, he stepped back, meeting my eyes. 

“Thank you,” he mouthed to me, holding out a hand for me to shake. I lifted one arm off of Felicity briefly to shake his hand, which _was_ solid. I nodded as I wrapped my arm around her once more. I glanced down at her face. She seemed to have tired herself out; she was asleep. I looked up at Hugh with a smirk. 

“This happens a lot?” I murmured quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping Hufflepuff. Her father snorted, shaking his hand fondly. 

“Ever since she was a kid. She’d throw a tantrum and cry herself to sleep.” 

I snickered at that mental image, but quickly sobered when I realized this was a bit more serious than a child’s tantrum. “What can I do to help?” I asked Hugh after a moment, surprising myself, but I didn’t take the words back. “When...when she misses you like this. I imagine it’ll be worse when Christmas approaches.”

Hugh sighed, nodding, and I noticed that his eyes were just as open with emotion as hers. I could see his heart break just a bit more. “Don’t attempt to say anything. She meant that. She’s…” He grimaced. “Well, sorry won’t bring me back. Just don’t abandon her, Draco. She’s lost enough already, and she’s only 16. Bad enough that she’s visiting my grave on her birthday.” 

I blinked. “It’s her birthday?” I hissed, kind of annoyed that she hadn’t mentioned it. Her father laughed at the look of outrage on my face. 

“Yeah, she never tells anyone. Hates the attention.”

“Figures,” I muttered, rolling my eyes, and to my alarm, her father’s form started to flicker. Hugh met my eyes urgently. 

“Look after her, Draco. Please. And remember to thank Blaise.” He paused. “And thank you, Draco.”

I frowned. “What for?”

Hugh just winked at me, then he was gone. 

I glanced down at Zabini again, who was still sleeping against my chest. I had to admit, having someone seek comfort in me was an odd feeling. The only person I’d ever even attempted to comfort was my mother, and she always ended up cross with me. Granted, Zabini was in a rather vulnerable state of mind, and her options were limited to suffering alone or accepting my comfort, awkward as it may have been.

Had we been anywhere else, I would’ve pushed her away immediately. If I was being honest, I was still fighting the urge. But there were no witnesses; in fact, the cemetery was completely deserted. I watched as the sun rose higher into the sky, and I glanced at my watch. It was almost noon, and I, for one, was getting hungry.

“Zabini,” I muttered, loosening my arms that were wrapped around her shoulders. I kept one hand on her arm, using the other to poke her forehead repeatedly. “Come on, wake up. I’m starving.” 

Zabini swatted my hand away with her eyes closed, tightening her arms around my middle. I stiffened, looking down at the Hufflepuff with wide eyes. Was she still asleep? I knocked on her forehead with my knuckles. “Quit using me as a human pillow and wake up, you daft witch!” 

That seemed to jar her, and I let out a sigh of relief when her eyes snapped open. They were bloodshot from crying, and I watched with amusement as she realized that she was basically snuggling against my chest. “Comfortable, Zabini?” I smirked, arching an eyebrow. The witch snatched her arms from around my middle, scooting back, her cheeks flushing pink. 

“Now that you’re _finally_ awake,” I sniffed with disdain. “I’d appreciate it if I could have lunch. Surely there are respectable wizard dining places in the area?”

“Pardon me for mourning my dead father,” Zabini shot back, curling her lip. She rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms with a yawn. I sighed impatiently. She glared at me. “Give me a chance to wake up, you git!” 

I scowled, looking away. For the first time since we’d arrived, I noticed the scenery around me. We were in early October then, and the leaves on the trees there were unlike anything I’d ever seen back home. They were painted with vivid shades of red, orange, and yellow. Yet again I had to acknowledge the beauty of this city around me. Muggle or not, there was something serene about the area, despite the fact that I was sitting on a bench inside of a cemetery. 

My growling stomach halted my train of thought, and I focused on Zabini, fixing her with a pointed glare. “Will you wake up sometime in the next decade? Some of us would like to eat.” 

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy.” The witch huffed before getting to her feet. I quickly followed suit. “You’re in luck. There’s a place where we can eat that’s not too far from here. Shall we?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously.” I shoved my hands in the pocket of my jeans, following Zabini as she began walking. “And this place is magical?” 

Her lips twitched. “Completely.” She had a look in her eyes that I wasn’t sure I trusted but decided not to question. The girl was a Hufflepuff, for Merlin’s sake! I doubted she had anything nefarious planned.

“Lead on, then.”

***

Zabini was true to her word, as it only took a few minutes of walking to reach our destination. I frowned at the building, reading the sign. “Skyline Chilli?” I curled my lip. I’d never heard of such a thing.

She gasped with faux shock. “The ferret can read! Surely you’re _much_ too important to waste your time on such trivial activities. Do you not have servants who read to you?”

“Like I’d let any of the house elves or servants _read_ to me.” I folded my arms, lifting my chin in defiance. “What kind of wizarding institution is this? I’ve never heard of it.” Zabini shushed me then, much to my irritation. “Don’t tell me to hush, you stupid--”

“Malfoy.” She hissed, glancing around, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the bushes. “Keep on and you’ll be the reason why Muggles find out about our existence. Act like a normal human being for once in your life.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, but the witch pushed ahead of me, opening the entrance door and walking inside. I hurried to catch up with her. I was greeted by one of the oddest restaurants I’d ever seen in my life. For one thing, the place reeked of grease and cooked meat. For another, the workers looked...young. I eyed the Muggle girl behind a suspicious looking box with odd buttons. She had to have been 16 like Zabini and I. Did Americans not care about their children receiving a proper education? _Of course they don’t. They’re Muggles_ and _Americans, the worst sort._

“This way, Malfoy.” Zabini motioned towards the queue of Muggles standing in front of the same Muggle girl I noticed not two minutes prior. I followed the Hufflepuff reluctantly, curious despite myself. Soon enough, it was our turn to stand in front of the girl and her odd box. 

“Hello, what can I get for you?” The Muggle girl asked, sounding so bored that I snickered. Zabini elbowed me before returning her eyes back to the young girl. 

“Hullo, can I get two small orders of chilli cheese dogs along with two cups of water, please?” 

My eyes widened. _Cheese dogs? What in the name of Merlin do these Muggles eat_ dogs _for? And they put_ cheese _on them?_

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Zabini snapped her fingers in front of my face, arching an eyebrow. “Malfoy, I’ve got our food. Let’s go sit down.” _She_ didn’t seem to have any qualms about eating dogs, and if that was the case, the Hufflepuff was even more barmy than I gave her credit for. My stomach roiled, but I followed the witch silently, my mind swirling with questions. 

As I sat in an iron-backed chair, I watched Zabini set my food (if one could even _call_ it that) in front of me. I gaped at her. “You actually expect me to eat that?”

“Come on, Malfoy,” Zabini rolled her eyes for the upteenth time. “Don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”

“A what?”

“Vegetarian,” She pronounced each syllable with exaggerated slowness. “It means you don’t eat meat.”

“I eat _meat_.” I glowered like a petulant child, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “What kind of pansy doesn’t eat meat?” 

“Vegetarians.” 

“Does it look like I _bloody_ well care?” 

Zabini snorted. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re _eating_.” 

I watched in abject horror as she took a bite of her food. Sweet Merlin, it was _covered_ in blood! And the Neanderthal just picked it up _with her hands_! “You. _Disgust._ Me.” 

The Hufflepuff froze with the abomination halfway to her mouth. “You’re acting as if this is news to me, Malfoy.”

“Shall I rephrase, then?” I hissed. “You just became even more disgusting, Zabini.”

Her dark eyes flashed at me. “Why, for breathing on your food?” 

“That too. With your _dog eating,_ foul Mudblood breath.” I curled my lip, turning my nose up at her. 

“ _Dog_ eating?” She repeated, aghast, her eyes round with horror. . 

“Don’t play innocent with me, Zabini.” I snapped. “I heard you order dogs with cheese on them. And you wonder why you’re so _filthy_. You!” I barked at a worker who was walking by. 

“What can I do for you?” asked the employee, who jumped at my sharp tone.

“What kind of _bloody_ establishment is this place?” I demanded, standing up from my seat and towering over the young man. “Cooking and serving dogs with the blood still fresh on them! Wait until my father hears about this!” 

He blinked at me. “Uh—“

“So _that’s_ what this is about?” Zabini jumped to her feet, pulling at my arm as she shot the employee an apologetic look. The Muggle walked away, looking at me oddly. I yanked my arm out of the Hufflepuff’s grip but sat down when she did. 

“Malfoy,” She was exasperated. “They’re not _literally_ dogs. It’s beef.”

“Come again?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy! _Cow._ It's a cow.” 

I sat back, beginning to feel rather foolish. “But...I saw the blood!”

Zabini grinned. “It’s not blood, it’s called chilli.” She nudged my food towards me. “Try it, it’s good.” 

I arched an eyebrow at the meal. It was covered in chilli and cheese. “If I get food poisoning, I’m owling you the St. Mungo’s bill.”

“Like you’re not rich enough to cover the expenses.” She huffed. “Just _eat_ , Malfoy.” 

Feeling more than a little self-conscious, I clumsily picked up the hot dog like she had, taking a bite. It was unlike anything I’d ever tasted before, even if I did feel like a commoner eating it with my hands. 

“How do you like it?” Zabini asked, watching me closely. I liked it a lot, but I wasn’t going to give the witch the satisfaction of knowing that. I shrugged.

“It’s alright.” I took another bite, which, for some reason, made the She-Zabini burst out laughing. “What are you laughing for, you obnoxious bint?”

She covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. “It’s...you have sauce _all_ over your face.”

I scowled as she grabbed me a handful of napkins, tossing them at me with a snicker. “Thanks ever so much.” I grumbled, even though I caught them easily. I proceeded to wipe off my face. How did she manage to eat this thing so neatly? 

As if reading my mind, her expression softened slightly. “Don’t worry, the first time I ate one of these buggers I made a huge mess.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I drawled dryly. Zabini just threw more napkins at me before taking another bite of her chilli dog. 

***

“I can’t believe we have to go back tomorrow,” The Hufflepuff complained that night in the hotel as she folded her belongings back into her duffle bag -- by hand, I might add. I sneered at her. 

“You _do_ know there are spells for packing, right?” 

“You _do_ know I have arms and legs that function properly, right?” She shot back in the same snotty tone I used. I looked away with a scowl. I flicked my wand, making sure my robes were folded neatly in my bag. I hesitated when I saw the Muggle clothes Zabini had bought me. 

“Say, She-Zabini--”

“I have a name, you know.” 

“Do you wear your Muggle clothing while you’re at Hogwarts?” I continued. The witch pursed her lips. 

“On the weekends, yeah.” She finally told me. “When Blaise and I go to Hogsmeade.” 

After a moment of quick deliberation, I decided to pack my Muggle clothes as well. Again, I marveled at how quickly my best mate had accepted this girl as his own family, and I was reminded of the promise I made to Hugh. Involuntarily, my throat tightened, and I was at a loss for what to say next. Thankfully, Zabini broke the silence first. 

“Well, we’d better get some rest. The Portkey Dumbledore gave me re-activates for our return at 6 tomorrow morning.” 

“Merlin, why so _early_?” I groaned, shoving a hand through my white-blond hair in agitation. Zabini chuckled. 

“Heck if I know.” She hesitated, and I turned to look down at her. The Hufflepuff stood clutching that same bag of toiletries she had used the night before. I couldn’t help but notice how sad her eyes were, and that looked so wrong, especially because it was her birthday. “Well, I’m just going to go brush my teeth…” The witch started towards the bathroom, but I blocked her way, using my height as an advantage, though she wasn’t that much shorter than I was. “Can I help you with something?” 

_Don’t be an arse, Malfoy. It’s the girl’s birthday._ Social decorum demanded that I not be rude on this day of all days, but rude was kind of my default setting. Father didn’t appreciate it when I was nice. It ruined the cold, arrogant mask generations of Malfoys before me had perfected. But then I thought of my mother, who was softer than my father, though still cold. I took a breath. 

“I’m...sorry about your father, Zabini.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heels, glancing at the floor. “And sorry that you had to spend your birthday with an arse like me.” My lips quirked slightly at that, and I risked a glance at the girl once more. She was gaping at me. “Oh, close your mouth, Zabini. You’ll catch flies.” 

The She-Zabini rolled her eyes, shoving past me, but then stopped a few paces away, seeming to remember herself. “Thanks, Malfoy.” She whispered, shooting me a sad, tiny smile over her shoulder, her eyes shining with tears. I nodded, a jerky movement, and then she was behind the closed bathroom door. 

I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans. Merlin, being nice was so bloody _hard_. But I still had one more nice thing to do. 

“Hugh, you insufferable bastard…” 

***

I lost sight of Zabini as soon as we returned to Hogwarts, which was fine by me. I was _not_ going to let her see me do something _else_ that was nice. Merlin knew she already had enough ammunition on me to start a bloody war. Fortunately, Blaise pounced on me as soon as I entered the Slytherin common room. 

“Oi, mate! Where’ve you been?” he crowed, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Have a good shag, then?” 

“ _What?_ ” I choked out, which made Blaise guffaw. 

“Must not have been very good.”

I socked him on the arm. “No, you _idiot_ , I was with your bloody sister!” Blaise clenched his fists, and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “I wouldn’t shag her if she was the last fertile witch on the planet, Blaise. Your precious mutt is safe.”

Blaise yanked me by the arm into our shared quarters. “What the hell were you doing with Felicity overnight, Malfoy?” he hissed. I held up my hands. 

“We were in America, mate. Dumbledore had her come up with a place to show me in the Muggle world.” I scrunched my nose. “Her hometown, apparently. Nothing to sneeze at, but I had something called Skyline Chili. It was decent, but if you tell her that I will murder you in your sleep tonight.” 

My best mate snorted at that. “Yes, God forbid a Malfoy enjoys anything in the Muggle world. What else did she show you?” 

Any trace of teasing in my face disappeared, and I swallowed hard, sitting down on my bed. Blaise folded his arms, staring down at me impatiently. “She...dragged me to her father’s grave.”

Blaise’s eyes widened. “On her bloody _birthday?_ ”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t _my_ choice, mate. But…” I chewed on my lip, struggling to look the other Slytherin in the eye. “The weirdest thing happened.”

Blaise dragged a nearby chair and sat it in front of my bed, sinking into it. He motioned for me to continue. 

“Her...her father was there, Blaise. As a ghost.” 

His jaw fell open at that. “You’re barking.”

“I’m not!” I countered defensively. “He…” I looked down at my hands, twisting the Malfoy family ring around on my finger absentmindedly. “Had blue eyes. Brown hair. Obviously a Muggle.”

Blaise was mystified. “I never met the bloke, but I’ve seen pictures...sounds like him.” He inhaled sharply. “What...what did he say?”

I flipped so I was laying down on my back, looking up at the ceiling, my arms cushioning my head. “She...was having a rough time, visiting his grave. You know how I am with crying girls; absolute rubbish. So I was sitting there, wondering what in Merlin’s name I was to do with a weeping Hufflepuff, and he was just _there_...he said he wanted to make sure she had someone to look after her. Said that her mum…” I hesitated, sitting up once more. Blaise’s jaw clenched. 

“Her mum blames her for her dad’s death?” he finished for me, and I nodded. Blaise’s fingers flexed. “That woman is mental. I don’t know what my dad sees in her.” His eyes were dark with anger and a fierce protectiveness. “Bloody selfish bint, that woman.” 

I just nodded, because it certainly _seemed_ like Zabini’s mother was... _difficult._ “There’s one more thing, Blaise.” My voice caught embarrassingly, and I cleared my throat. 

“What happened?” he whispered. 

“He, uh…” I coughed. “Her father...well, he told me to thank you. You know, for...looking after her. He said you didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to love her, and...you do. It was,” I cleared my throat again, “sickeningly sweet, obviously. Don’t know how I managed not to vomit.” 

I was trying too hard to be serious, and we both knew it. Blaise’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he bowed his head, putting it in his hands. He remained that way for a few moments before looking back up, his eyes glassy. 

“Thanks, mate.” Blaise managed to croak out, a tear slipping down his face. I acted like I didn’t notice, obviously. He ignored the fact that there were tears in my eyes as well. Obviously. I cleared my throat yet again, managing a tight chuckle. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” I ran my sleeve across my eyes, my arm a bit shaky. 

Blaise choked on a laugh. “Bleeding heart, Malfoy. Like a bloody Gryffindor.” 

That made my tears dry. “God, Blaise, _anything_ but that.” But we both knew what went unsaid, and in that moment, it was enough of a thank you. 

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Felicity

“Felicity!” Hannah attacked me with a hug the moment I stepped into the Hufflepuff common room. I snorted but hugged her back. 

“I’ve only been gone for a day, Han.” I gave her a playful shove so she’d let go of me. 

“One day too many, Fee.” She grumbled, crossing the room and plopping down on one of the many couches in the common room. I rolled my eyes at her dramatics, sitting down on the couch with her. Hannah’s expression turned serious then. “How was the trip?”

“It went better than I thought it would,” I admitted, twisting my hands together in my lap. Hannah arched an eyebrow. 

“Oh?” She grinned widely at me, wiggling her eyebrows, and I pursed my lips. “Does that have to do with a certain blonde Slytherin?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking!” I shoved her shoulder playfully, then hesitated. “It’s only...I visited Dad’s grave, and I…” I bit my lip, stubbornly blinking back the tears that sprang to my eyes. “Well, I was an emotional mess, obviously, and Malfoy wasn’t a complete arse about it.” 

My best friend’s expression softened. “I’m glad that you got to visit his grave, Fee. Did you tell your father hello for me?”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” I laughed, shaking my head. My chest tightened with a familiar ache, and I sighed. “I left some flowers there; I transfigured a rock into some. Luckily the cemetery was deserted.” 

Hannah glared at me. “Someone could’ve _seen_ , Fee. You need to be careful!” 

I rolled my eyes. I knew she was only worried about my safety, but it was unnecessary. “No one saw, Hannah. I promise.” 

The blonde’s glare softened. “I believe you. Just...be careful, okay?” 

I leaned my head up against the back of the couch, suddenly tired. “I know, Han.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. “I also exposed him to Skyline Chili,” I told her after a moment, opening my eyes. Hannah snorted. She’d been there with me during our holiday in America one year before my parents split up. 

“Was it a traumatizing experience for him?” she asked, laughing. I giggled right along with her. 

“Oh, very much so,” I confirmed. “What with the Muggle culture being the classless heathens he despises.” 

My best friend scrunched her nose. “I never understood that. I mean, the rumor is that You-Know-Who himself is a half-blood, for Merlin’s sake!” 

I snorted. “I wonder if Malfoy knows about that little piece of gossip.”

“I don’t think it would matter if he did,” Hannah told me with a grimace. “That kind of prejudice is passed down through generations. It’s like they brainwashed him.” 

I frowned. When she put it that way, I wondered if there was any possible way he would overcome his prejudice. Even if he _did_ overcome it, he’d have his family to contend with, and I guessed they wouldn’t take his acceptance of half-bloods and Muggles kindly. It made me feel bad for him, in a way. He was a victim of his circumstances. How would he ever escape them? 

***

Once again, the rest of the week flew by quickly. I wondered what I would show Malfoy next. He’d already seen a television. He’d been exposed to fast food. _Hmm..._ Maybe I’d show him cars next. I snickered at the mental image of Malfoy seeing a car for the first time. No doubt he would think them just as unnatural as a television. 

As Monday rolled around, I had arranged for the Slytherin to see one of the cars we had at the Zabini Estate. Since I didn’t have my license, Gerrald had offered to give a demonstration. Admittedly, I was looking forward to Malfoy’s reaction, so I arrived at the designated classroom earlier than usual, bouncing on my toes with excitement. I had to stop myself from pacing the classroom as I waited for him. 

To my disappointment and surprise, he didn’t show. In fact, Malfoy didn’t show up the next day, either. Weeks went by with the same results. Blaise told me he didn’t know what kept Draco those days, but I knew he was lying. No amount of prying worked on him. 

I saw him every now and then in the Great Hall, in the corridors between classes, hanging around Blaise and their other cronies. Each time I tried to meet Malfoy’s eyes, he looked away or glared at me. 

In all fairness, it wasn’t _completely_ out of character for him to offer no explanation for his disappearance. Frankly, I would’ve been more surprised if he had been that considerate. Even still, I couldn’t help but feel like something was very wrong. 

“What could’ve happened, Hannah?” I paced our shared quarters one November night, running my fingers through my brown waves. 

“Maybe exposing him to Skyline was more traumatizing than you anticipated?” she offered with a smirk, and I snorted, picking up a pillow and throwing it at her. 

“Very funny, Han.” I stopped pacing, opting to sink down into one of the beanbags by our desks. “I’m _serious_. _What_ is going on?” 

Hannah’s blue eyes were troubled for my sake. “I don’t know, Fee.” 

Even though Malfoy hadn’t been showing up for about a month at this point, I still showed up to the classroom every Monday and Tuesday, praying to Merlin that the git would finally show, but he never did. 

I was losing my mind. I was so lost in my own thoughts that the owl tapping on the window of the classroom frightened me. I took a few deep breaths, hurrying over to the window and opening it for the owl. It was the same owl who’d delivered Dumbledore’s letter. 

“Hello there,” I stroked the top of the owl’s head, grinning as it cooed and nuzzled its beak against my hand. “What have you got for me, hmm?” 

Dutifully, the owl stuck out its leg, where a rolled up piece of parchment had been tied securely. I gently removed the piece of parchment from the owl’s leg, laughing when it nuzzled my hand again, clearly wanting a treat. 

“I don’t have anything for you, love,” I murmured, stroking under the owl’s beak. “But if you hop on my shoulder, we can go find you something once I read this letter, yeah?” 

The little dear hooted happily and complied, settling on my shoulder and burying its beak into my hair. I closed the window before I unrolled the piece of parchment, my heart leaping into my throat when I recognized Dumbledore’s handwriting. 

_Miss Zabini,_

_If you would be so kind, please report to my office as soon as you receive this owl. I suspect Bartleby will have taken up residence on your shoulder, wanting a treat. I have some for him, so he is welcome to accompany you._

_Professor Dumbledore._

Amusingly enough, Bartleby seemed to be reading along with me, as when I finished, he cocked his head at me, as if to say, “Well? Are we going or not?”

I slipped the piece of parchment into the pocket of my robes, straightening my shoulders. “I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I, Bartleby?” 

Bartleby hooted his agreement before vaulting off of my shoulder and flying in the direction of Dumbledore’s office. I knew how to get there, but I humored the owl and followed him down the hall, a feeling of dread settling like a heavy stone in my gut. 

As I got closer to Dumbledore’s office, the dread only grew. What could he possibly want me in his office for? The only thing I could think of was that he wanted another update on Malfoy’s tutoring, but surely he had to know that Malfoy hadn’t shown up in a month… 

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Bartleby let out a panicked screech, disappearing around the corner faster than my eyes could follow. I frowned, wondering what could’ve scared him so much, but I continued on until I once again stood in front of the sphinx statue. I could’ve sworn the thing was alive, as it shot me an almost sympathetic look. 

“Er...Chocolate Frogs?” I asked hesitantly after a moment, and the sphinx moved aside for me. _He really should change his password, shouldn’t he?_ I wondered to myself as I walked into his office. To my surprise, Dumbledore was sitting at his desk already. He gave me a grim smile as I entered the room. 

“Hello, Miss Zabini,” he greeted me in a tired but kind voice. “I won’t take up too much of your time today. Please have a seat.”

I did as he asked, sitting down almost gingerly. “Erm, that’s quite all right, sir. Bartleby was with me earlier, but something spooked him just now…” I held up my hands helplessly. 

“Yes, I can imagine so,” Dumbledore agreed, continuing on before I had a chance to ask what he meant. Did he know what had frightened Bartleby so badly? The old wizard sighed, rubbing his temples. “Miss Zabini, I’m afraid we have a problem.” 

_Yeah, I’ll say._ I wanted to retort, but I kept my mouth shut. “A problem, sir?”

The Headmaster nodded gravely. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the young Malfoy’s absence from your lessons--” 

My eyes widened. “Do you know what’s happened to him?” I leaned forward in my seat, wincing as I cut him off, but I was _finally_ getting answers. “I swear I didn’t do anything, sir. I don’t know why he hasn’t shown up.” 

Dumbledore gave me a small smile. “I do not place any blame on your shoulders, Miss Zabini, nor do I precisely know where Mr. Malfoy is. I do, of course,” He clasped his hands together. “Have an inkling of what he is doing, but that information is not mine to share.”

“But--”

The old man raised his hand, cutting me off. I flinched at the sudden movement. Thankfully, the Headmaster didn’t comment on that. “With that being said, I’m afraid I must ask that your lessons with Mr. Malfoy cease immediately.” 

“What?” I gaped at him. “But he was actually improving!”

“I have no doubt of that, Miss Zabini.” Dumbledore gave me a gentle smile. “This is out of my hands, dear child. I’m terribly sorry.” 

I just stared at him for a few moments. That was it? I wasn’t going to get any sort of explanation for this sudden change of plans? When the old wizard made no more efforts to speak, I rose from my chair, feeling oddly numb. “As...as you wish, Professor.” I gave him a small nod before exiting his office slowly. Part of me hoped that he would stop me, that he would explain what was going on, but he didn’t. 

My thoughts were so jumbled that I would’ve completely missed the figure in the shadows, had he not spoken. 

“Miss Zabini, is it?” The voice was ice-cold, familiar yet not. I whirled around, instinctively reaching for my wand. It was a small comfort to feel the smooth sycamore wood under my fingers. 

“Who’s there?” I called, my fingers curling around my wand, though it was still concealed in the pocket of my robes. Briefly, I remembered the first time I’d gotten my wand at Ollivanders. _“Yes, yes.” The old wandsmith said cheerfully. “This one will do nicely. Sycamore wood with a dragon heartstring core, thirteen and a quarter inches, and a surprisingly swishy flexibility! Go on, my dear, give it a wave.”_

“So you’re the mutt who is tutoring my son.” A man emerged from the shadows, jolting me out of my daydream. He had long, white-blonde hair, cold gray eyes, a hawkish nose, and thin, pursed lips. There was no mistaking the resemblance. This was Malfoy’s father. 

My fingers tightened around my wand. “Felicity Zabini. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Malfoy.”

The man sneered at me, giving me a dismissive once-over. “Yes, well, I wish I could say the same, Miss Zabini. Only it seems,” he stepped closer to me, towering over me menacingly. “That you have been corrupting my son.”

I lowered my eyebrows in confusion. “Corrupting him, sir? I don’t know that I’d call it--”

Before I could go on, Mr. Malfoy struck me across the face. I stumbled back; when I licked my lips, I tasted blood. The older wizard smirked at my pain as he drew his wand, yanking me by the sleeve and digging his wand into my throat. “Lying does not become you, Miss Zabini. Teaching my son about _Mudbloods_ is most certainly corrupting him.” He removed his wand, wrapping a hand around my throat instead. “And if you value your pathetic excuse for a life, you will stay away from my son.” His hold tightened, and my eyes widened. Was he really going to strangle me in public? “Are we clear?” 

Terror swept through me. This close, I saw that his eyes weren’t gray, not exactly. They were duller than that, more lifeless. Whereas his son’s were lighter, the color of a cold, gray winter sky, his were the color of ashes. 

I managed a nod, and only then did Malfoy’s father release my throat, tossing me aside and to the floor. I scrambled back, feeling a trickle of blood running down my chin, watched as it dripped onto the crisp white uniform shirt I wore under my robes. Mr. Malfoy knelt, running his wand under my chin, lifting it with the tip of his wand. “Do tell your brother Lucius Malfoy said hello, my dear. We have missed him at the Manor.” 

With that, Lucius Malfoy stood and strode away from me, his long, black robes billowing behind him like a cape. 

I couldn’t move. I began to tremble, the panic rising in my chest as I remembered the day my father died.

_It had been raining. I sat numbly on my bed, my head in my hands. I couldn’t bring myself to cry yet, couldn’t bring myself to believe that my father was really gone. I hardly glanced up as my mother entered my bedroom, leaning against the open door. I finally looked up when I heard her sniffle._

_“They said it would’ve been painless,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They said it all happened so fast, that he wouldn’t have felt anything…” I watched as her eyes filled with tears, and I blinked, wanting to cry, but still feeling shell-shocked. My mother focused on me, and oddly enough, her expression changed._

_“You selfish,_ selfish _girl.” She snarled._

_I met her eyes with a start. “W-what?”_

_My mother advanced towards me like an angry lioness. “It’s_ your _fault that he’s gone. If you hadn’t been so anxious to see him, hadn’t called his bloody phone so much asking where he was, he would still be here!” Her voice had risen with hysteria. My eyes widened as my heart sank, and I shook my head, unwilling to believe it._

_“N-no…” I whispered hoarsely. “He said that it was fine, that he was excited to see me, too. He said--”_

_My mother yanked me up by the collar of my shirt with a speed I didn’t know she possessed, holding me in place against the wall, her other hand wrapped around my throat. “I don’t care what he said. This is_ your _fault! Your father is dead because of you, Felicity!” Her hand tightened around my throat, and I let out a strangled gasp. “You should be_ ashamed _of yourself! How_ dare _you kill my husband? How_ DARE _you?” At that point, she was screaming at me._

_She threw me down onto my bed roughly. I winced as I hit my head on the wall, but I ignored the pain, scrambling back like a crab, getting as far away from her as I could. I stared up at her in mute terror. Fortunately, the fight seemed to have left her, though she regarded me with a cold, cold hatred before she turned and stormed out of my room._

_I hugged my knees to my chest, trembling, and for the first time, the sobs began to wrack my body._

I flinched when I felt a hand on my shoulder, surprised when I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks. But I had to get away from this person. I scrambled back, shrugging the hand off, drawing my wand and pointing it at the threat. “N-no!” I gasped out when I saw who it was. The cold gray eyes, the white-blonde hair. “Stay away from me!”

Lucius frowned. “What the Hell, Zabini? It’s me!” 

I shook my head frantically, my wand hand shaking terribly. “N-no, no...stay _away_!” I was full-on sobbing now. “I p-promise I’ll back off, just _please_ don’t hurt me again, please, I’ll--”

“Oh, gods.” The man clad in a black suit sank to his knees at my side, and I was startled to see Draco Malfoy hovering next to me. His short, white-blonde hair fell into his eyes as he took in my bloody lip and bruised throat. 

“D-Draco?” I cringed away from him just to be safe, and he nodded, holding up his hands, his gray eyes as unguarded as they’d been the day I first talked to him. This time, though, they were filled with different emotions. Fear, confusion, concern, apprehension--it was all there. The Slytherin moved slowly towards me, taking care with each movement. 

“For Merlin’s sake, what _happened_ , Zabini?” he whispered. At that question, the tears began to flow again, harder this time, and I shook my head, the images flashing through my mind. I felt the panic rising in my throat again, and I began to shake all over. 

Malfoy shot me a helpless look before yelling over his shoulder, “Blaise! Theo! I could use some bloody help over here!” 

I looked up at Malfoy as he said Blaise’s name. “Bl-Blaise?” I repeated, sounding like a small child, but I couldn’t help it. The blonde’s gaze softened slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, Zabini, your brother’s here.” He stood up, making way for Blaise and a boy who must’ve been Theo. When Blaise saw me, he let out a low cry and sank to his knees in front of me, taking my face into his hands. 

“Felicity, what happened?” he questioned me gently, wiping at my tears with his thumbs. I shook my head, not ready to talk about it, so my brother dropped his hands and pulled me to him in a tight hug. I felt his arms tighten around me protectively when Malfoy spoke again. 

“The bruise around her throat,” he muttered. “I could see where someone’s fingers had been. Someone attacked her intentionally.” 

For the first time, I heard Theo speak. “Who would want to hurt a Hufflepuff _and_ Zabini’s stepsister? Everyone knows Blaise would hex the living daylights out of anyone who hurt her.” 

“I’d like to know that for myself so I _can_ hex the living daylights out of whoever did this.” Blaise snarled, and I felt him look down at me again. He took a breath, about to say something else, when Theo spoke again. 

“Best not push her any further right now, mate. You won’t get anything more out of her. She needs to rest.” I looked up in surprise at that, not expecting the Slytherin’s voice to be so kind. Well, as kind as a Slytherin’s voice could be anyway. When our eyes met, he winked. The fact that both Blaise and Malfoy scowled at Theo after that made my lips curl up slightly. 

Blaise seemed to relax when he saw the glimpse of a smile on my face, and he loosened his hold on me slightly. “Think you could stand for me, Lissie?” 

I gave him a shaky nod before gripping his forearms and getting to my feet, wobbling back a bit. I felt a hand shoot out to steady me from behind, but when I looked back, I couldn’t tell if it had been Theo or Malfoy who steadied me. 

I stepped away from Blaise, giving him a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks,” I whispered, and Blaise ruffled my hair, giving me a crooked, relieved smile. 

“Anytime, sis.” 

“Well, if you all are quite finished, I’d best be going.” Malfoy spoke up, rolling his eyes at the affection Blaise showed me, but he was smirking just a bit. He brushed past us, pausing to look down at me and say, “Feel better, Zabini.” Before he could get any further, I grabbed his sleeve. Malfoy shot me a vaguely annoyed look. 

“What?”

 _Where have you been? Why have you stopped coming to the tutoring sessions? Do you hate me? Did you send your father here to hurt me?_ The questions lodged in my throat, unwilling to come out, but Malfoy seemed to understand. He closed his eyes before opening them, his expression apologetic, weary, frustrated, and...was that guilt? For the first time, I noticed the bags under his eyes, noticed the way his clothes were too big for him. He looked ill, and I opened my mouth to ask him what was making him so sick, but he gave me a helpless look and a shake of his head. He looked trapped. With that, he strode away, leaving me more confused than ever.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Draco

  
It was strange. For the longest time, I’d considered the Manor to be my home. It was, after all, the place where I grew up, before I went to Hogwarts, anyway. But that all changed when _he_ was staying there. 

The Noseless Wonder sucked the life out of every single room he entered. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but shiver every time he spoke to me. I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but he gave me the creeps. I’d seen what he did to those who didn’t follow orders, to the blood traitors, even to some of the Professors I had at Hogwarts growing up. 

All that to say, when my mother summoned me to the Manor, I knew something bad was going to happen. Snape had given me permission to use his fireplace to Floo there. Merlin knew Dumbledork would’ve been asking too many questions. 

As I stepped out of the fireplace and into my home, the air seemed to change. I peered into the inky blackness, wondering why no one had bothered to turn a bloody light on. I reached into the pocket of my robes, drawing out my wand. 

“ _Lumos_ ,” I whispered, following the light my wand provided me. I looked around as I walked into the drawing room. Where was my mother? Fear seized my heart, but then I heard a lamp switch on. I whirled around, startled, but I was relieved to see my mother sitting in an overstuffed armchair. 

“For Salazar’s sake, Mother!” I hissed. My mother simply smiled as she rose gracefully, seeming to glide as she reached my side. Her cornflower blue eyes glowed with pride, and I ducked my head. Why did she always look at me like I’d just gotten a bloody award? 

“It’s good to see you, too, darling.” She quipped in a stern voice, though she still smiled up at me. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. 

“Yes, _hullo_ , Mum.” I wrapped my arms around her, burying my face into her shoulder, inhaling her familiar scent. It was the safest I’d felt in weeks, there at the Manor, with You-Know-Who lurking about, my mother gently rubbing my back as she returned my hug. 

Mum held me away from her, examining me. “You are too thin, Draco. Have you been eating? And the bags under your eyes--”

“I’m _fine_ , Mum,” I grumbled, stepping out of reach. She pursed her lips. I could tell she didn’t believe me, but she ran her fingers through my hair, smoothing it out. Mum let out a long sigh then, stress tightening the corners of her eyes. I knew that Father being in Azkaban was hard on her, and I hated that I couldn’t be there with her more. The selfish part of me, which was, admittedly, the larger part of me, was grateful that I didn’t have to stay there while the Dark Lord occupied my home.

“I suppose we can’t keep him waiting,” she whispered, straightening, a steely look of determination entering her eyes. I felt the fear squeeze my heart again, but I put on the famous Malfoy mask of indifference. I held out my arm to my mother. 

“I’d really rather not.” I muttered, and she gave me a gentle smile as she took my arm. Together, we walked out of the drawing room and into the dining room. 

“Ah, Narcissa…” came a quiet voice that still managed to carry across our long dining room table. “So glad you could join us. And the young Malfoy as well.” 

Mum stiffened at my side, but she pasted on a smile. “We are honored to host you in our home, my Lord. Draco is here visiting from Hogwarts, per your request.”

The Dark Lord fixed his snake-like eyes on me. “Welcome, Draco. It is good to see you, as always.”

I bowed at the waist. “And you, my Lord.” 

I suppressed a shiver when he smiled at me. “Come sit, my boy. We have much to discuss.”

My heart leaped into my throat, and I glanced over at my mother, whose grip had tightened on my arm. “Of course,” I replied, mentally applauding myself for how smooth my voice sounded. I escorted Mother to her seat, pulling out her chair for her before I took my own to her left. Mum snapped her fingers, and suddenly the house elves were serving us dinner. 

I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stomach any food, not with him sitting _right there_ , but it would’ve been impolite to refuse dinner, so I choked what I could down. For a few moments, there were no sounds except for the clinking of utensils, and I found comfort in the silence. 

But I knew it wouldn’t last long. The Dark Lord spoke when I was taking a sip of water from the ornate goblet Mum had set out. I wondered why she had brought out this particular set of cutlery, as it was the kind we usually used when entertaining guests we were trying to impress. _I suppose this isn’t any different,_ I thought, wincing internally. 

“Tell me, Draco…” the Dark Lord murmured. “Have you made your choice?”

 _Choice_? There was absolutely no choice, not really. I swallowed hard, setting my goblet of water down carefully before I answered, “I have, my Lord. I...I would be honored to serve you, my Lord.” 

The smile the Dark Lord gave me then was truly terrifying. “Of course you would, Draco. I knew you’d live up to your family name.”

Fenir Greyback snarled directly across from me. “He may turn out to be a disappointment, just like his father.” 

Aunt Bella, who, to my immense relief, had remained silent up until that point, cackled maniacally. “Yes, that reminds me, Cissy!” she chortled, addressing Mum. “How _is_ Lucius faring in Azkaban?”

Only I noticed the way Mum flinched at her deranged sister’s question. “I am not, of course,” She replied coolly. “At the liberty to discuss my husband’s status with anyone besides Draco. You understand, Bella.”

I wanted to laugh as Aunt Bella’s grin faltered, but before my aunt could fire back at Mum, the Dark Lord spoke once more. 

“ _Enough._ ” He hissed, and time itself seemed to stand still. Even Aunt Bella froze. Snake-Eyes focused on me again. “The boy will not fail me. Will you, Draco?” His voice had softened oddly, turned almost fatherly, but I knew better. I heard the underlying threat. 

“No, sir,” I whispered, swallowing again. 

“You see?” The Dark Lord spread his hands placatingly. “He knows what is at stake...should he fail to do what I’ve asked of him.” His tone had quieted again, and it was even more terrifying than when he raised his voice. 

“Now then.” He clapped, making me jump. “We have one more matter to discuss--Ah, Severus, thank you for joining us…” 

I arched an eyebrow when my godfather stepped out of the shadows, seemingly from out of nowhere, sitting down at the table and folding his pale hands. “I always do,” Snape drawled out. I choked back a laugh. “Has he decided, then, my Lord?” He continued after a moment in that same disinterested tone. 

The Dark Lord laughed softly. “Yes, Severus. I expected nothing less from Lucius’s son.”

“Let us hope he will not fail us like his father did.” To anyone else, Snaps’s words would’ve sounded cruel, but I once again heard the hidden message. I _couldn’t_ fail like my father had, or the Dark Lord would come after my mother next.

“Nonsense, Severus,” the Dark Lord replied lightly. “We should be celebrating! You do your family a great honor by receiving the Mark, my boy.” His strange eyes focused on me. “Now, may I see your left forearm?”

I would’ve choked on my food, had I been chewing. “My-my Lord?” 

“Or would you rather have your godfather do the honors? Of course, of course, understandable.” The Noseless Wonder turned to Snape. “Severus, if you would do the honors…”

The last thing I saw before Snape seized my arm and the world went black were my mother’s eyes filling with unshed tears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter, but chapter 15 will be longer! Should be up soon :) can’t promise a specific date because I’m in school, though!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Felicity

As stupid as it may have seemed, I still went to the classroom I tutored Malfoy in every Monday and Tuesday. He hadn’t been showing up for ages, of course, but it was a quiet space where I could do my schoolwork in peace.

Mainly, though, I wanted to get away from Blaise and Hannah’s concerned gazes. It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful for them; of course I was. After Malfoy’s father attacked me, they treated me like I was breakable. I tried to tell them I was fine, but they still hovered around me, and it was nice to get away from them, if only for a moment. I still hadn’t brought myself to tell them the whole story of what had happened.

I’d grown accustomed to being alone in that classroom. Perhaps too accustomed, because when Blaise cleared his throat, I yelped.

“Easy, sis.” He gave me a small smile as he leaned against the doorframe. I scowled at him. 

“How’d you know where I was?” I asked, giving him a pointed look. “I thought I told you I wanted to be left alone.”

“And I thought I told _you_ that I couldn’t allow that,” Blaise retorted, crossing his arms. 

_"You_ can’t allow that?’ I repeated, setting down my quill and glaring up at him. “You know, I was _so_ close to finishing that Charms assignment, so if you could kindly bugger off...” 

" _Accio_ quill.” Before I could even whip out my wand, Blaise held my quill in his outstretched hand. 

“Blaise!” I stood up from my seat, stamping my foot. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Gee, I dunno, Felicity.” My stepbrother pocketed my quill, uncrossing his arms and striding forward; now he was glaring at me, too. “Maybe the fact that my bloody sister was _assaulted_ \--”

“It was _hardly_ \--”

“And she won’t even tell me who did it!” Blaise’s dark eyes were bright with anger. 

“Maybe because I don’t want you to _murder_ someone, Blaise!” I resisted the urge to stomp my foot again. “I _told_ you, and I _told_ Hannah, I’m _fine_! God, would you _stop_ treating me like a doll?” I folded my arms with a huff. “It’s just a bruise! Bruises fade.”

Blaise’s expression softened a bit. “Felicity,” he sighed, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his middle, pressing my cheek against his chest. 

“I’m fine, Blaise.” I mumbled into his shirt. His arms tightened around me, and I felt him place an affectionate kiss onto my hair before he stepped back. 

“I know. But that bruise…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I--I’ve seen it before, Fee. When your mum--”

“I don’t want to talk about that wretched woman,” I held up my hands. Blaise pursed his lips. 

“They...tried to strangle you. Whoever it was. That’s why you had the panic attack.” 

I went still, feeling the familiar panic beating like a drum against my ribcage, but he grabbed my hand and squeezed it, distracting me. All I could do was nod. Blaise’s eyes smoldered with fury, but he didn’t press me anymore. For that I was grateful, and I took deep breaths. 

Once the panic was under control, I told him, “I promise I’ll tell you eventually, okay? Just...not right now. It’s too…”

“Too fresh?” The Slytherin supplied grimly, and I nodded again. He dropped my hand, glancing to the door. “I understand.” He hesitated. “Listen, don’t kill me, okay, but I had Theo--”

“What about Theo?” 

Both Blaise and I whirled around at the new voice. Since I wasn’t having a panic attack at that moment, I took in Theo Nott’s appearance for the first time. He was taller than Blaise and Malfoy, with olive-toned skin, a shock of dark brown curls, and bright blue eyes. He gave us a grin that was too bright for my liking. 

“Blaise, what did you do?” I turned to look up at my brother, folding my arms. Behind me, Theo pouted. 

“What, I don’t get a hello?”

“Hullo, Nott. I’m trying to talk to my brother at the moment, do you mind?” With that, I turned my gaze back to Blaise, who was looking increasingly nervous. 

“Well, I have Potions in 20 minutes, and Theo doesn’t, so I asked if he’d escort--”

“Oh for the love of Helga Hufflepuff, Blaise! I don’t need an escort!” I studied him with disdain. “Besides, I won’t be leaving anytime soon, and I’m sure Theo has better things to do. Don’t you, Theo?” I turned my eyes to him again. 

“Actually, I don’t really--” When he saw the look in my eyes, he amended his statement. “Er, that is to say, I had planned a date with Daphne Greengrass, so I can’t stay too long.” I almost laughed when the poor Slytherin wilted with relief when I nodded approvingly at him. 

“See?” I smiled brightly at Blaise, who was glaring at both Theo _and_ I now. “Nott’s got things to do.” Seeing that my brother was getting angrier by the second, I sighed. “ _But,_ if you’re that worried, I’ll stay in this classroom until your Potions class is finished. I’m done for the day.”

Blaise cursed, mumbling something about “bloody Snape having Potions in the evening” and “annoying, know-it-all sisters.” 

I patted his cheek. “Nice doing business with you, brother dear. Ta! Oh, and give me back my quill.” 

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?” he grumbled as he handed my quill back to me. I beamed as I drew my wand from my pocket, hitting him with a small Stinging Hex, smirking as he yelped. 

“That’s for taking my quill. And I love you, too.” 

Theo clapped his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he looked between us. “Well, _I_ think that was very sweet. Sibling bonding and all.” 

“Sibling bonding my arse,” Blaise muttered, still quite cross with me. I snorted, then waved the two Slytherins out of the classroom. Theo exited the classroom immediately, pausing only to toss me a wink over his shoulder. My brother gave me a look that told me this conversation wasn’t over before he followed his housemate. I exhaled with relief before taking my seat and resuming my Charms essay. 

***

About ten minutes later, I heard someone open the classroom door. I’d closed it so I wouldn’t get any more visitors, or so I’d thought. I didn’t bother to look up from my essay. “Blaise, I swear if you’re skipping class, I’ll—”

“It’s not Blaise, you annoying twit!” 

I looked up from my essay then. I would’ve known that haughty voice from anywhere, and I arched an eyebrow, putting down my quill.

“I didn’t know I’d be entertaining _three_ snakes today,” I simpered with faux enthusiasm. Malfoy did not look amused. 

“What the hell are you on about, Zabini?”

 _Okay,_ not _in the joking mood, apparently._ Then again, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Malfoy in a joking mood. “Not important. What are you doing here?”

Malfoy snorted. “I was under the impression that I had a standing tutoring session with you on Mondays and Tuesdays, mutt. Or have you forgotten?”

Anger curled like fire in my gut, but I took a deep breath, keeping it at bay.

“No, Malfoy, _I_ haven’t forgotten,” I snapped. “But it would _seem_ as if _you_ have, seeing as you haven’t been here for over a month.”

The blonde Slytherin glowered at me. He looked impeccable as always, dressed in the black suit he always wore, but something was off. “I’ve been busy,” he finally mumbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh, yeah? So busy that you couldn’t even give notice that you were going to be skipping our meetings for a _month_?” I scoffed lightly. “Sell stupid somewhere else, Malfoy.”

His gray eyes flashed with annoyance. “I don’t owe you anything, you annoying witch,” he hissed. I immediately scooted away from him as he sank into the chair across from mine. He sneered at me. “Is your blood so dirty that it can’t stand being near me, Zabini?”

My slender fingers curled into fists, but I kept my hands in my lap. “What are you doing here, Malfoy, since you don’t _owe_ me anything. Did you just come to be an annoying arsehole?”

I watched in annoyance as the mask he always wore slipped from his face momentarily, revealing exhaustion and something else I couldn’t place. He only let his guard down for a moment, but I saw it. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he spoke again. 

“This has to stop.”

“What, the constant arguing or the bigotry on your end?”

Malfoy shot me a dirty look. “This...this tutoring. I can’t do it anymore.” 

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed _all month_.” 

He slammed his fist on the table. “Dammit, Zabini, I’m serious!” 

Despite myself, I jumped at the sudden movement, and I felt a tiny prickle of satisfaction when his face blanched. “Merlin, Zabini, I’m...I didn’t mean…” His head fell into his hands, and for the first time, I noticed the edges of something black on his left forearm. 

“Malfoy?” I reached for his arm, going to push his sleeve up. “What is this? Did you get a tattoo?”

Malfoy snatched his arm away from me with a hiss, standing up from his seat so violently that it fell over. “Don’t _touch_ me!” he snarled, pushing his sleeve down, clutching his forearm gingerly. I watched with wide eyes as he stalked to the other end of the classroom, bracing his hands on one of the tables, bowing his head. 

I approached him slowly. As I got closer, I heard his breaths coming in quick gasps, and I was reminded of the panic attack he’d had in the bathroom a few months ago. I touched his shoulder. 

“Breathe, Malfoy.” I told him gently, stepping back to give him some space. He shot me a hateful look, but there was also desperation in his eyes. My heart squeezed inside my chest, and I made sure he was looking at me before I continued. “In,” I inhaled sharply. “And out.” I exhaled slowly. Malfoy glared at me but did as I said. “Good. Keep taking deep breaths.” I pretended not to notice the tears that were trailing down his cheeks, instead waiting patiently for him to calm down.

After a few moments, he straightened, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, wincing at his forearm again. 

“Malfoy…” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Let me see. It’s hurting you.”

Immediately the cold, familiar mask was back in place. “No.”

“Why?” I demanded, feeling my anger rising up again. “Does the tattoo look that bad?”

The Slytherin shot me a withering look. “I don’t know what a tattoo is, Zabini, but I can assure you I don’t have one.”

I folded my arms, lifting my chin in defiance. “I _saw_ something, Malfoy. Something black, just there.” I jabbed his left forearm with my thumb, eliciting another hiss from the boy. He smacked my hand away. 

“I said...do. Not. Touch. Me.” He growled through gritted teeth, and I snorted, not backing down.

“Then let me see what it is! I know a few healing spells, maybe I can—”

In the blink of an eye, Malfoy whipped out his wand, lunging forward and digging it into my throat. His grey eyes were dark with fury. “If you know what’s good for you, mutt, you will keep your _filthy_ nose out of my business. Are we understood?”

Something in me snapped then. I let out a cry and shoved him back as hard as I could, reaching into my robes and brandishing my wand at him. “And if you know what’s good for _you_ , Malfoy, you will _never_ touch me like that again.” 

Malfoy stumbled back, looking momentarily stunned, but then he was pointing his wand back at me, his teeth bared. “So that’s how it’s going to be, mutt?” He growled, taking a step towards me, but I stopped him, shoving my wand into his chest, just above his heart. 

“Take one more step and I won’t be responsible for what happens next, _Malfoy_.” I spat, digging my wand further into his chest. The Slytherin sneered. We regarded each other with open hatred, his wand at my throat, my wand pointed at his heart. He let out a scoff.

“You’re not going to back down, are you?”

“Ten points to Slytherin.”

Malfoy gritted his teeth, using his wand to tilt my chin up forcefully. I jerked my head away, giving him a nasty look. “Show me what you’re hiding, Draco Malfoy, or I swear I’ll go to Dumbledore.” That was fighting dirty and I knew it, but I didn’t care. I smacked his wand away from my face, still holding my own defensively. 

“You, Felicity Zabini, are the most _insufferable—_ ”

“Let. Me. _See._ ” I hissed, raising my wand, arching an eyebrow at him, daring him to refuse me. 

With a snarl, Malfoy yanked up his sleeve, shoving his left forearm into my face. I was so startled that I almost dropped my wand. 

I examined the tattoo on his skin. It was a design of a snake with a skull on the end of its tail. The skin around the harsh black design was raised and covered in angry welts, as if it had been burned into his skin. This was no tattoo. It was something much, much worse. I could practically feel the Dark Magic vibrating from Malfoy’s charred skin.

“What on Earth have you done?” I whispered, lowering my wand and looking up at him with wide eyes. He glowered at me, but his eyes were bitter. 

“What I had to do,” he bit out after a few beats, and then I understood. I gasped, stumbling back so fast that I tripped over my feet. 

“It’s...its _his_ , isn’t it? You’re one of them.” I’d heard rumors about You-Know-Who forming some sort of army. I’d heard that they were called Deatheaters. But now that one was standing in front of me, the rumors became a frightening reality. My horror increased when the Slytherin didn’t deny it. “Malfoy, why on Earth…” 

He barked out a laugh. “Like I said, keep your nose out of my business.” The blonde made as if to leave the classroom, but I grabbed the sleeve of his suit, yanking him back. 

“How could you do this?” I asked, tightening my grip on his sleeve as he tried to get away. My eyes blazed with anger and, oddly, a sense of betrayal. “He’s a _murderer_ , Malfoy! The things he’s done--” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Malfoy hissed, wrenching his arm out of my grasp. “Do you really think I _chose_ this? That I _want_ to align myself with the barmy Noseless Wonder?” 

If the circumstances had been different, I would’ve laughed at him calling You-Know-Who the Noseless Wonder, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. My silence seemed to increase his ire. 

“You know _nothing_ , mutt.” The Slytherin took a menacing step towards me, making me back up until my hip bumped up against the table we were standing in front of. I clenched my fists at my sides, regretting the fact that I’d slipped my wand back into the pocket of my robes. 

“You’re a coward, Malfoy.” This close, I could see flecks of blue in his gray eyes. “Everyone has a choice. You’re just too afraid to do what’s right.” The cornered look on his face confirmed my words. “Or maybe,” I continued. “Your father has corrupted you _so much_ that--”

Malfoy lunged for my throat then, yanking me closer by the collar of my shirt. He spun me around, shoving me into the wall. He held me there, his eyes blazing with so much hatred that I wanted to cower. “If you speak to me about my father again, I will personally make sure you regret it.” He grit out, tightening his grip on the collar of my shirt. I let out an involuntary yelp as my shirt closed over the bruise on my throat.

“You’re hurting me! Let go!” I shoved against him, feeling the panic climbing up my throat. My body began to tremble, and he let go of me like I was suddenly on fire. I dug my nails into the palm of my hands, glancing down at my feet, trying to quell the tears that filled my eyes.

Malfoy was silent for so long that I figured he left the room, so I let out another cry when I felt a shaky finger lifting my chin. Brown eyes met grey. One lone tear trickled down my cheek. I hated the way I shrank away from him, from _anyone_ who made a sudden movement, anyone who raised their hands too fast. I hated that my brain registered the most innocent gestures as threats. 

“I’m sorry.” His eyes burned with regret, and he raked a hand through his white-blonde hair. “I--I didn’t mean…” 

“I know,” I let out a shaky breath, straightening, moving to walk around him, but his rough voice stopped me. 

“Wait.” 

I stiffened but stilled, glancing up at him. The wizard examined my face, no doubt taking in the scab on my lips and the ugly bruise wrapped around my throat. 

“Who did this to you?” he wondered, his expression unreadable, and I looked away from him, afraid he’d see the truth in my eyes. I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “For Merlin’s sake, Zabini, _look_ at me.” 

Careful not to reveal too much in my own expression, I looked up at him again, raising my chin. Malfoy’s eyebrows lowered in consternation. “Answer me, Felicity.” The words were softer this time. I quirked an eyebrow at the use of my first name but decided not to comment on it. 

“You don’t want to know.” I assured him, fiddling with the sleeve of my robes. Malfoy sighed in frustration, his eyes moving to study the bruise on my throat again. He lifted his hand slowly, making sure I saw the movement, and placed it on the side of my neck, brushing over my bruised throat with the pad of his thumb. All I could do was stare at him in astonishment. What in the name of Helga Hufflepuff was he doing?

“I can assure you that I do.” His thumb moved up a bit, ghosting over my scabbed lower lip before he stepped back, giving me a serious look. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. 

“You _really_ don’t,” I insisted. Malfoy opened his mouth, clearly ready to argue with me, but then I looked at my watch. Blaise’s class was over; he’d be down here any minute, and I doubted he’d take the image of Malfoy cornering me against a wall kindly. My eyes widened as I thought of something new. 

“Blaise, did he…?” I held my breath, looking up at Malfoy, searching his expression. The Slytherin’s expression softened with grim understanding. 

“No,” he promised. “He never goes to the meetings.”

I practically wilted with relief. “Thank Merlin.” I breathed, closing my eyes briefly. When I opened them, Malfoy’s eyes flickered with something. Pain? Resentment? Guilt? It was impossible to tell. After a few more heartbeats, he nodded once, stepping away from me. 

“He’ll be here soon, I think,” I blurted after an uncomfortable silence. “Blaise, I mean.” 

Malfoy smirked, the familiar cockiness coming back into his expression. “So anxious to be rid of me.”

I snorted. “I wonder why that would be.” I meant for it to sound playful, but Malfoy flinched at my words. 

“Right, I’ll...just be going, then.” With that, the blonde Slytherin turned on his heel and walked towards the door of the classroom, opening it. He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. I gave him a curious look when he turned back around to look at me. 

His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I...well. Be careful, Zabini.” Then he was gone, and once again I was terribly confused, because for a moment, it seemed as if he was going to apologize again. I frowned as the door shut with a gentle click. 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Draco

Zabini’s sister was starting to tick me off. 

For one thing, the stupid girl absolutely refused to tell me who had attacked her. From what I’d gathered, she told Blaise and Hannah a few weeks afterwards. That was early in December. It was now three days before Christmas Eve, and I _still_ knew nothing. 

“Excited for the hols, mate?” Blaise nudged me from his spot beside me at the Slytherin table, and I blinked out of my thoughts. 

“I suppose,” I mumbled, spearing a piece of chicken onto my fork and taking a bite. I wasn’t sure how much of a Christmas I would have, seeing as Snake-Eyes still occupied my home. “I owled Mum, and she told me I could stay here if I wanted.”

My housemate frowned. “But surely you don’t want to spend Christmas alone, Draco.”

“I’d rather spend it alone than spend it with the Dark Lord lurking about the Manor.”

Blaise winced. “Got me there.” Then, his expression brightened marginally. “You could always Floo to the Zabini Estate for Christmas dinner. We’ve got plenty of room.” 

_You’ve also got an annoying sister who refuses to tell me valuable information that I’m not sure why I care about who lives there. No thanks._ “I’ll think about it.” I told him with a shrug, looking towards the front of the Hall as Dumbledore called for everyone’s attention. 

“Children, may I have your attention, please?” The Headmaster waited until everyone was silent before he continued. “This year, in the spirit of Christmas, your professors and I request your participation in a school-wide Secret Santa gift exchange.”

I frowned. What in the name of Salazar Slytherin was a Secret Santa? I arched an eyebrow at Blaise, who shrugged. He didn’t know what this was either. I scanned the tables until my eyes landed on Zabini, who was grinning from ear to ear. I rolled my eyes, because _of course_ she would know what was going on. 

The tables around me had burst into excited chatter; so she wasn’t the only one. Dumbledore sent up a spark in the air with a flick of his wand, gaining everyone’s attention once more. “Some of you may be wondering what I am speaking of,” he continued, and I folded my arms, arching an eyebrow. 

“You shall report to your Head of House, who will have compiled the names of the students in your respective years inside a hat. The hat has been charmed to pick names at random.” His eyes twinkled as my dread grew. “It is your responsibility to buy a gift for the person whose name you have chosen.”

“What’s the catch?” Fred Weasley called out from the Gryffindor table, and I curled my lip, though I wanted to know the same thing. There was a smattering of laughter. _For Merlin’s sake, it wasn’t that funny._

Dumbledore chuckled. “Thank you for asking, Mr. Weasley.” he answered jovially. “For there are four conditions. The first being that each of you will be given a name of someone who is not in your house.” Loud groans went up at that, but the old wizard held up his hand. “The second being that you may not reveal the name you have been given to anyone. If you wish to reveal your identity to the recipient of your gift after Christmas you may, though you are not required to do so.”

 _Huh._ So this was anonymous? That suited me just fine; I was intrigued despite myself. I glanced at Blaise out of the corner of my eye and saw that he had perked up as well. 

“Third,” Dumbledore said, “You must acquire the gift by midnight on Christmas Day. And finally,” Everyone was on the edge of their seats at this point. “The price range is up to you, but the bin where you will drop off your gifts is also under a special spell. This will ensure that you make an effort to procure a proper and thoughtful gift.” 

The sparkle in his eyes only seemed to brighten as he dropped that last bomb on us. 

“That is all. Report to your Heads after dinner, please.” With that, he sat back down. Once again, the room buzzed with conversation. I turned back to Blaise after a few seconds. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “This will be interesting.”

I sniffed. “That’s one word for it.”

***

After dinner, Blaise and I hurried back to the Slytherin dungeons. I smirked when I saw that we were the first ones to approach Snape, who looked unimpressed with the situation at hand. Blaise had reasoned that it was best to get it over with, and I agreed. 

“After you, Malfoy.” He motioned for me to go first. I scoffed but approached my godfather.

“Snape,” I greeted him curtly, reaching into the hat and pulling out a small piece of parchment that was folded in half. 

“Mr. Malfoy.” Snape drawled with a sniff. “Address me by my proper title if you wish to avoid detention.”

I scowled. “But Blaise and I are the only ones-!” I began to protest, but upon seeing the cold look in Snape’s eyes, I amended, “As you wish, Professor.” 

Snape waved me away with his hand. “Mr. Zabini. Please step forward.”

“Certainly, Professor,” Blaise obeyed while sending me a smug smile. I shoved past him harder than I needed to, heading into our shared quarters. Once I was alone, I carefully unfolded the piece of parchment. 

_Felicity Zabini._

“No. Bloody. Way.” I blinked hard, staring down at the piece of parchment, willing it to say someone else’s, _anyone_ else’s name, but it didn’t change. 

I sank down onto my bed, raking my hands through my hair. Out of _all_ of my peers the hat could’ve chosen, out of _everyone_ in 6th year, it had to be her. Felicity Zabini, a Hufflepuff half-blood. Felicity Zabini, who my best friend would die for. Felicity Zabini, a witch who had seen me have not one but two breakdowns. Felicity _bloody_ Zabini, whose skin felt like silk under my thumbs, whose lips had felt warm to the touch. Felicity Zabini, whose kindness baffled me but drew me to her inexplicably even so. Felicity Zabini, who was starting to make me wonder if what I had been taught about blood status my entire life was absolute rubbish. 

What on Earth would I buy for her? I didn’t really know her well enough to know what she liked and disliked. I would’ve asked Blaise, except that we couldn’t tell anyone whose name we had drawn. 

I took a breath, putting my head into my hands. Didn’t anyone see that I had enough to worry about as it was?

***

The next morning, I watched the witch as she sat at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast. She was with Abbott as usual. I leaned forward, straining to hear what the two were talking about. Then I had an idea. “ _Accio_ extendable ear.” I wasn’t sure if it would work this far away from my dorm, but a few seconds later, I closed my fingers around the contraption. 

My father would’ve murdered me if he knew I’d gotten these from the Weasley twins’ shop. Well, I didn’t _technically_ go inside. Blaise had gone into the shop one Hogsmeade weekend; admittedly, I’d probably just stolen it from somewhere inside his robes, but he didn’t notice, as he was still talking to Theo about Quidditch. Quickly, I took out my wand, tapping it on the extendable ear, whispering a “ _Muffliato,_ ” for good measure. 

“I told you I’m fine, Hannah.” Felicity was saying. One look at the expression on her face told me she wasn’t fine at all. _Terrible liar as always, Zabini._

“Fee,” Abbott placed a hand on Zabini’s arm. “It’s understandable. The first anniversary of your dad’s--”

“I _know_ , Han.”

I felt a strange tugging at my heart. In all the chaos going on in my life, I’d totally forgotten that this Christmas marked a year since her father had passed. 

“Just _talk_ to me, Felicity.” Abbott begged, and my eyebrows furrowed. Had they gotten into a row? I watched as Zabini wiped at her face with the sleeve of her robes, and I wrinkled my nose. _Merlin’s sake, Zabini, have you no manners?_

“I want to, Han, I do, it’s just…” She sighed. “It’s only...every time I acknowledge it out loud, my memories of him seem to fade.” Her voice broke. “What if I lose the memories altogether?”

Uncharacteristically, I was beginning to feel bad for eavesdropping, but it worked out in my favor in the end. I had an idea. 

***

The morning of Christmas Eve I found myself walking into Flourish & Blotts rather sheepishly. The shop clerk looked up. 

“Hullo there, I’ll be with you in a mo’.” She was an older witch who reminded me eerily of Professor McGonagall. Her smile was kind as she stepped out from behind an _enormous_ tower of books. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Do we know each other?”

She chuckled. “No, I suppose not. Sylvia Birchfield. I went to Hogwarts at the same time as your mother and father. I was ahead a few years, but I remember them.” 

“Right.” I shifted my footing, wondering how to escape this unexpected and rather disturbing trip down memory lane. “I was wondering if you had a specific item in your shop.”

“Last minute Christmas shopping?” Sylvia’s blue eyes were amused, and I shrugged. 

“Something like that.” Merlin’s pants, I hated asking for help. It made me feel weak. “Erm, would you happen to have a two-way journal?”

The witch’s eyebrows furrowed. “How do you mean?”

I cleared my throat. “As in, where the owner of the journal and I are able to have a conversation by writing inside of the journal?” Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if such a thing existed, but I had to try. Fortunately, Sylvia’s eyes lit up with understanding. 

“I have just the thing. Come.” 

I watched as she accioed a parcel into her waiting hands, trailing the woman as she walked behind her counter, setting the parcel on top. 

“These,” Sylvia pulled out two identical, leather-bound journals, “are what you’re looking for. Simply give one of them to the witch or wizard you wish to write to and keep the other for yourself. Using the special quill included, whatever you write down inside your journal will appear in its twin, and vice versa.” 

I was so relieved that I almost smiled. Almost. “I’ll take it. Thank you. Er, just one more question.” Sylvia looked up at my face; she had been gift wrapping one of the journals, doing a better job than I ever would have. 

Unfortunately, her answer to my next question wasn’t one I wanted to hear. 

***

I gritted my teeth as I stood in front of Dumbledore’s office. How on Earth could I do this? How could I ask him for anything when I had been tasked...I shook myself out of my thoughts. _You’re Draco bloody Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake! Man up!_

“Chocolate frogs,” I mumbled, hoping that the password hadn’t changed. Luck was on my side that evening, as the statue moved aside for me. Oddly enough, the Sphinx seemed to be giving me a smug look as I passed.

“What’re you looking at, you stupid bird?” I turned my nose up at it as I knocked on the door to Dumbledore’s office, wiping my sweaty palms on my trousers. 

“Ah, Draco.” If the Headmaster was surprised to see me he didn’t show it. “What can I do for you?”

“I—I just had a question. May I?”

The old wizard stepped aside, graciously allowing me to enter his office. I sank into a chair across his desk as he sat down, folding his hands and giving me a pleasant smile. “Ask away.”

I rested my elbows on my knees, hardly able to meet him in the eyes. “How much would I owe you for an International Portkey?”

Dumbledore blinked. “Owe me, my boy?”

I nodded, biting my tongue so I wouldn’t snap at him. “Whatever the amount, I can pay it. My family has millions of Galleons.” 

The Headmaster studied me carefully. “No charge, Mr. Malfoy.” He finally spoke after what seemed like hours. “On one condition.”

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. I hadn’t been expecting that, but I played along. “And that condition is…?”

“Why?”

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “Why what?”

Dumbledore’s eyes glittered with mirth. “Why do you wish to acquire an International Portkey, Mr. Malfoy? I wish to know your reasoning before I hand one over to an underaged wizard.”

I cursed mentally. I should’ve known there would be a catch like that. But as much as it pained me, I told him.

“It’s for my Secret Santa. Um, may I tell you who, I’m assuming?” At the Headmaster’s nod of approval, I continued. “Felicity Zabini. This Christmas marks a year since her father passed, and I just figured…” I looked down at my hands. “I figured she and Abbott could visit America, put flowers on his grave while they’re there…”

I risked a glance up at the old wizard then. His eyes had softened. I hurried on. “But I want to give it to her tonight, so she can have it before everyone leaves for holiday.” 

Dumbledore gave me a warm smile. “I can allow this exception, Draco, but with one more condition.”

“What’s that?”

***

“When will she be here?” I paced the Slytherin common room anxiously, holding the small package under one arm as I did so. Blaise rolled his eyes at me. 

“She’ll be here in a few seconds, now what is this about?”

Before I had time to come up with an excuse, the She-Zabini burst into the common room, heedless of the angry Slytherins who yelled at her to go away. 

“Blaise, what do you _mean_ you ruined my copy of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_? I swear to Merlin if you were reading while drinking your coffee again, I’ll hex-“

“We have company, Fee.” Blaise cut her off, nudging her side. I snickered as she whirled around to face me. 

“Hullo, Malfoy.” She greeted me, confusion flashing in her brown eyes. The Hufflepuff glanced at Blaise. “He lives here, Blaise, why does he count as company?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, sister dear.” Blaise responded with a smirk. “He just barged in asking me to bring you here as fast as I could.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So you didn’t ruin my book?” When her brother shook his head, laughing, she stomped her foot at him. “Blaise Zabini, you horrible pest!” The girl turned back around to face me, folding her arms. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

_Here goes nothing._

“I, um…” I shifted my grip on the package I’d been holding under my arm. “Happy Christmas.” I shoved the box at her as if it had a snake trapped inside. 

“What in the name of-“

“Just open it,” I grumbled, feeling the tips of my ears beginning to burn. Though the impertinent witch rolled her eyes, she complied, opening the box. 

You could’ve heard a pin drop in the common room at that moment. Blaise flashed me a worried look. I shifted from one foot to the other. Oh, gods, she hated it, didn’t she?

“Zabin-“

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She asked suddenly, looking up into my eyes. I couldn’t quite read her expression, but I nodded. “This is an International Portkey.”

“I know.”

“To _America_.”

“I _know_.”

“To Ohio!”

One corner of my mouth quirked up. “Don’t make me tell you I know again, Zabini.”

She stared hard at me, and it was killing me that I still couldn’t read her expression. “Why?” She demanded, and I took a breath. 

“To visit your father tomorrow, on Christmas. You and Abbott can go, and I’ve already sent a flower arrangement-“ 

I was cut off when she closed the distance between us and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly around my middle. “What the—“ I stammered. “Zabini, what-“

Felicity pulled back and did what no one was expecting: she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek, beaming at me. “Thank you, Draco.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she was practically glowing. 

My stomach swooped. It was the first time she called me by my given name. Warmth blossomed inside my chest. I was sure my ears had turned a violent shade of red. “It was nothing,” I mumbled, scratching the back of my neck. 

“ _No_ ,” I jumped a bit when I felt her grab my hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s everything. You’re a good man, Draco Malfoy, and don’t you forget it.”

 _Dear God in Heaven._ The glow in my chest only seemed to grow, and I gave her hand a light squeeze in return, hating what I had to do next. I reached my free hand up, brushing my knuckles lightly down her cheek before pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. I took out my wand.

“ _Obliviate_.” I whispered, closing my eyes and focusing on this memory, on taking it out of her mind.

I thought of what Dumbledore had said.

_“Seeing as it’s not yet Christmas, you must Obliviate the memory from her mind once you have given it to her.”_

_“What!” I protested. “But then she won’t know—“_

_“That it was you?” Dumbledore chuckled. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t mind that, Mr. Malfoy, at least for right now.”_

“Malfoy?”

I opened my eyes, looking down at the now-confused Hufflepuff witch. “Hey, Zabini.” My voice was rough with emotion, and I cleared my throat. “You lost?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “ _No,_ I…” I watched as she searched her memories, trying to piece things together, but then she shook her head, mystified. “I can’t remember.” Her expression brightened as she noted the time. “Oh, but happy Christmas!” 

I gave her a small smile. “Happy Christmas, Felicity.” 

The girl turned to hug her brother, who scooped her up and spun her around. “Happy Christmas, Fee. Go get some rest, okay?” Blaise wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulders, escorting her out.

When my best friend returned, he was gaping at me. “Draco, what on Earth..?”

I brushed him off, heading to my room. “I’ll tell you later,” I promised over my shoulder. 

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have nightmares when I finally drifted off to sleep. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Felicity

  
“Wake up, Felicity! It’s Christmas morning!”

I groaned as I felt Hannah jumping on my bed, jolting me awake. “For Merlin‘s sake, Hannah, what time is it?”

“Don’t know, don’t care!” She sang, yanking my warm comforter off of my shoulders. “Get up! It’s time to open presents!”

When I refused to move, instead shoving my pillow on top of my head in an attempt to drown her out, my best friend began to physically drag me. 

“Come _on_ , Fee.” With a grunt, she yanked the pillow off of my head and threw it across the room. I sat up, glaring at her.

“ _Really_?”

“Don’t make me drag you into the floor.”

“But I want to sleep in!” I pouted, rubbing at my eyes, letting out a huge yawn. Hannah grabbed my hand as soon as I planted my feet onto the plush white carpet of our dorm, dragging me down into the common room. 

“First presents, then sleep!” She promised as she continued to drag me, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to sit down on a couch. The fireplace crackled and hissed in the corner, shrouding the common room in a warm orange halo. The Christmas decorations seemed to sparkle just a bit more that morning.

A couple of sleepy first years stumbled down the stairs on both the girls and boys side. “What’s going on?” asked Cordelia Abbott, Hannah’s little sister. Her blonde hair was tied back in adorable pigtails, reminding me of the way Hannah used to wear her hair when we were younger.

“Nothing bad, Deli.” I gave her a gentle smile when she sat beside me on the striped black and yellow couch. “Hannah’s just _eager_ ,” At this, I threw my best friend a pointed look. “To open presents.”

“Presents? Where?” Ernie Macmillan, a fellow 6th year and my Prefect counterpart, piped up, his eyes bright like a child’s despite the ungodly hour.

“Well,” I sighed, glancing around the common room at all the eager—albeit sleepy—witches and wizards who were looking at me expectantly. “Since everyone seems to be awake, I suppose we can begin opening presents.”

A collective cheer rose up, but I silenced them by holding up a hand. “Not so fast. Your presents are probably in your rooms. No doubt your parents charmed the packages not to appear until this morning so none of you would be tempted to open them early. I trust no one did?”

“Felicity, we’d never open them early!” Susan Bones, also in 6th year, smiled cheekily. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. _It’s too early for this._

“ _You_ may not, Su, but I seem to remember _some_ of us—”

“Not this again,” Ernie groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It was _one_ time during third year, Felicity. One time!”

“Oh, come off it, mate,” Justin Finch-Fletchley snickered. “You did the same thing last year, too!”

Ernie shot his friend a look of mock betrayal. “Justin, how could you say such a thing?” He clutched a hand to his chest with a gasp. “I am a Prefect _and_ Head Boy. Think of the example I’d set for the children!”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed. “Enough of that.”

“ _You’re_ the one who makes us open presents all together,” Ernie mumbled, earning him a box on the ears from Hannah, who also happened to be Head Girl. She’d originally been Prefect, but decided to give the position up to me so she could focus on her duties as Head Girl. 

“Pardon me for insisting--”

“That we all open presents together like a family, yes, we _know,_ Fee.” Hannah gave me an exasperated but fond smile. “Are you going to make us wait forever?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, then.” I swept my gaze around the room. “You’re free to go to your rooms. No shoving!” I added, giving Teddy Lafayette, a second year with a mop of curly brown hair and big green eyes, a stern look as he almost barreled over Waylan Graham, also in his second year. Waylan shot me a grateful smile as he followed his roommate up the boy’s staircase. 

“Sorry, Felicity!” Teddy shouted over his shoulder, but did not slow down. I chuckled as I watched my housemates, younger and older, race up the stairs to their respective dorms, chattering away excitedly.

_I wonder what Malfoy’s doing right now._

The thought came unexpectedly to my mind, and I frowned. Where on Earth had that come from? I hadn’t seen the Slytherin for weeks, not since we’d fought in the classroom that day. It was weird, though. The edges of my memory felt a bit fuzzy, like there was something that I was forgetting. _What could it be, though?_

“Aren’t you coming?” Deli tugged lightly on the sleeve of my pajama shirt, breaking me out of my thoughts. I gave her another gentle smile. 

“Of course, I was just thinking.” 

“Well, think when no one else is around.” The girl teased. “You look barmy staring off into space like that.”

“She does have a point, you know.” Hannah chimed in. 

I pursed my lips. “I thought you wanted to open presents,” I reminded her with a scowl, rubbing my eyes. I was not a morning person; I never have been, ever since I was little. Thankfully, Hannah’s expression brightened at that, and she raced up the stairs, nearly knocking over another second year student. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Hannah!” I shouted after her, rolling my eyes. Nonetheless, Deli and I followed her up the staircase to our rooms.

***

“This is for you.” Hannah sat down on the edge of my bed, placing a small, neatly wrapped present in front of me. I smiled at her before quickly unwrapping the present. 

“Oh, how precious!” I cried with delight, lifting a yellow and black striped scrunchie with the Hufflepuff crest adorning the top of it. “I love it, thanks, Han!” I reached over to hug the blonde girl tightly. She gave me a gentle squeeze in return before letting go. 

“You’re welcome, Fee. Thanks for my earrings.” She held up the tiny box with the sterling silver badger studs inside of them. 

“Thanks for being so easy to shop for,” I responded with a grin. “I saw you eying them at Hogsmeade last weekend.”

Hannah giggled. “I bet I was easier to shop for than Blaise! Gods, he’s hot.”

“Hannah!” She dodged the pillow I threw at her. “That’s my brother you’re talking about!”

“Only by marriage,” she mumbled. 

“You’re disgusting,” I wrinkled my nose. “But yes, you were _much_ easier to shop for. I mean, honestly, what do you buy for the boy who has it all?”

She tapped her chin in thought. “I dunno, what _did_ you buy for him?”

“Tickets to the next Chudley Cannons match.” I replied with a shrug. I had to admit, it was a bit cliche, buying my brother Quidditch tickets, but it happened to be their championship match, _and_ I got him really good seats. I figured he’d take Theo or Malfoy with him.

My mum and stepdad, to their credit, did at least put _some_ effort into buying me a gift I’d like. I received an elegant set of quills and parchment, which I had already placed on my desk. 

Blaise got me a limited edition box set of _The Chronicles of Narnia_ that I’d been wanting for awhile. 

“Looks like there’s one you forgot to open,” Hannah nudged my leg with her foot. I blinked, looking at the present she handed me in confusion.

“Who is this from?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

I examined the wrapping paper. It was elegant and expensive-looking, like the sender had paid someone to wrap it for them. Hannah looked like she was going to burst from the anticipation, so after my examination I made quick work of opening the gift, revealing a beautiful leather bound journal and a silvery, delicate quill. The sender was thoughtful enough to include an inkpot as well.

“It’s beautiful,” Hannah murmured, gently taking the brown leather notebook out of my hands and turning it over in her own hands. I could only nod as she flipped it open, brushing my finger down the soft silver quill. “And look, there’s a note!”

“What?” I reached for the journal, but Hannah whirled around, standing as she read _my_ note. “Hannah Abbott, give that to me this instant!”

“Your Secret Santa sounds sweet on you,” She announced, totally ignoring the glare I gave her as she placed the journal back into my hands. I’d totally forgotten about the Secret Santa gift exchange. Conveniently enough, I’d gotten Ernie, and he’d already thanked me for the packet of sugar quills I bought him from Honeydukes--I knew they were his favorite. 

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I told her dismissively before I began to read. 

_Felicity,_

_Happy Christmas. I figured everyone needs a place to write down the thoughts we can’t always say out loud, so that is my gift to you: a safe space to do so. This journal is special in that it is a two-way journal. Whatever you write down using the quill and inkpot included in the gift, I will be able to see, and vice versa. If you don’t want me to read something you write inside, use a regular quill._

_All my best,_

_Your Secret Santa._

I arched an eyebrow at Hannah. “And this person sounds sweet on me _how_? They won’t even tell me who they are!”

Hannah waved a hand dismissively. “That’s what makes it romantic! A secret admirer!” 

I rolled my eyes yet again. “Sure, Han, whatever you say.” I stood up from my bed, going to place the journal on my desk, but my best friend placed a hand on my wrist, stopping me. 

“Aren’t you going to tell them thank you?” 

I sighed. Leave it to Hannah to make me write a thank you note the moment I receive a gift. “Fine, fine.”

Hannah nodded approvingly as I sat down at my desk. “Good! I’ll be back, I’m going to help Deli pack for when we leave at noon.” With that, my best friend strode out of our room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. 

I took a breath, feeling a bit nervous as I opened the journal again, grabbing the silver quill and dipping it into the provided inkpot. 

_Happy Christmas. Thank you for the gift, it’s lovely._

I chewed on my lip, wondering if I should write anything else. Before I could think of anything, though, the person was writing back, like they had been waiting for me to write in the journal.

 _You do realize it’s 5 in the morning, right?_ I glanced at the time on my watch, guilt sweeping through me. 

_I’m so sorry!_ I wrote back. _My roommate decided to wake up_ _everyone_ _an hour ago to open presents. Did I wake you?_

I could practically feel the sarcasm emanating from the page. _The journal doesn’t make a noise when you write to me, so...no._

I frowned. _How did you know I had written something, then?_

A few moments went by before they answered. _I was already awake. And the journal does glow when you write in it._

_Why are you up so early?_

A longer period of time went by before they replied this time. _Nightmares._

My heart went out to them. _Even when you try to go back to sleep?_

_Even then._

Before I could reply, Hannah knocked on the doorframe. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. “Bloody hell, Hannah!”

She snickered. “I just came in to grab a suitcase. How are things with your secret admirer?”

“For the love of God, they are _not_ \--”

“Bye!” She left the room once more, and I cursed under my breath before turning back to the journal. 

_Sorry. The aforementioned roommate barged in and did her best to annoy me for the two seconds she was in the room._

_I didn’t know you had it in you to be annoyed by your best friend._

I snorted before writing, _You’d be surprised._ Then something occurred to me. _How do you know my roommate is also my best friend?_

_I’ve seen you two around. Doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re close. You also just confirmed it._

That was fair enough, but it was also rather creepy, especially because I didn’t know to whom I was speaking. _Have we met before?_

_Possibly._

_Won’t you tell me?_

_I’d really rather not._

_Why not?_

They didn’t reply for so long that I figured they’d become cross with me, so I was surprised when I saw them writing back once more. 

_I’ll tell you one day, but right now I’d prefer to remain anonymous._

I frowned. _But that’s not fair! You know who I am._

 _Not really._ They wrote back before I could begin to form a thought. _I mean, I don’t know why I—_ Here, they scribbled over their words before writing again. _I’d like the opportunity to get to know you this way. My family is very traditional._

 _You mean, they tell you who to be friends with?_ I knew that “traditional” usually meant “snobby and rich”, especially in the wizarding world. 

_Something like that._ They agreed. _So, how about it?_

 _Fine._ I wrote back. _But what will I call you? Are you in my year? Are you a witch or wizard? Which—_

 _Merlin, you write fast. Hang on, will you?_ When I stopped writing, they continued. _Call me Scorpius. Yes, I’m in your year. I’m a wizard. That’s all I’m going to tell you._

_But that’s still not fair! You could be anyone!_

_Excluding witches, first through fourth year, as well as seventh...besides that, yes, anyone._

_You’re already annoying me._

_Isn’t that how any good friendship starts?_

_Usually they start by shaking one by the hand and telling one your name._

_Where’s the fun in that?_

***

After a little while, I had to tell Scorpius goodbye so I could begin to pack. Since Hannah had packed so early, she offered to help.

“No more questions about the journal, though!” That was my one condition. 

“But--”

“Hannah,” I looked up from my position on the floor. My suitcase was open; I was working on folding shirts and putting them inside. She was working on the pants next to me, rummaging through my trunk every once in a while. “I don’t even know who he is, okay? Let’s not--”

“So it’s a he?” She interrupted, grinning like the Cheshire cat. I picked up a pillow that I’d chucked at her earlier. 

“Don’t make me throw this at you again.” I held it up in a defensive position. 

Hannah spread her hands in a placating manner. “Fine, fine. Put the bloody pillow down, for Merlin’s sake.” She hesitated. “But you’ll tell me who it is when he reveals himself?”

I patted her knee. “You’ll be the first to know.”

***

“Ready to go home?” Blaise was practically dancing with anticipation. I arched an eyebrow at him, giving him a, “What do you think?” look. He sighed, looking down at me for the first time since we stood in front of the Hogwarts Express; it wasn’t quite time for the train to depart. 

“It’ll be fine,” he told me, slinging an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “I’ll make sure she leaves you alone.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s possible,” I admitted after a beat. “But thank you for trying.”

The Slytherin gave my shoulders a light squeeze before dropping his arm. “Don’t mention it. I wanted to tell you, though--”

“Blaise!” A familiar voice called, cutting him off. Blaise and I turned in unison. I saw Malfoy’s platinum blonde hair before I saw his face. He strode up to my brother, handing him a small object so quickly that I couldn’t identify it. 

“Don’t forget this,” his grey eyes flickered over to meet mine. I waited for a snide remark to pass through his lips, but it never came. Instead, Malfoy shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, rocking back on his heels. He couldn’t meet my eyes for a moment.

“She-Zabini.”

“Malfoy.” I gave him a quizzical grin, tilting my head. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Zabini.” He looked like he was trying very hard not to smile back at me, which made me determined to bring a smile to his face. I glanced at Blaise. He had turned to talk to Theo, who had arrived without me noticing.  
  
“Holding up okay?”

My gaze snapped back to the blonde when he spoke again, and I couldn’t help but gape at him. 

“Sorry?”

He smirked. “You heard me the first time, Zabini. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

I blinked several times, at a loss for words. 

“Why do you care?” I asked after a moment, truly curious. 

“‘Tis the season, is it not?” Malfoy _did_ smile this time. It was brief, merely a flash of teeth, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my stomach flutter just a little. I almost preferred him when he wasn’t smiling at me. I didn’t know how to act when he gave me _that. I just saw an image of the divine, dammit._ I tried to focus on his question, which did pull me out of my thoughts. 

“I--” I blinked, swallowing the lump in my throat as I pictured my father’s face. “It depends on the day.”

“How are you holding up today, then?”

My throat tightened once more. “The last time I boarded this train for Christmas, I called him on one of the stops, and it was the last time I heard…” I looked down as my breath hitched, trying desperately to blink back the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.

“Chin up, Zabini.”

I was startled as I met his grey gaze. “Pardon?”

Malfoy shoved his hands further into his pockets, arching an eyebrow in challenge. “Chin up. It doesn’t become you to look at your feet like that. You look like a kicked puppy.”

Raising my chin, I glared at him. “Is this better?”

He laughed. “Much. Your anger is much easier to abide than your tears.” 

My jaw fell open at that. “What the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy?”

He scowled at me then. “Oh—hush, you annoying witch!” Pink tinged his fair cheeks. “You know what I mean! You’re a Hufflepuff,” Malfoy gestured vaguely at me. “You’re all annoyingly chipper. Your sadness was weird amongst all the yellow you lot wear. It’s like—Disney princesses being sad. Unnatural.” He scrunched his nose. 

A smile spread slowly across my face. “Why, Draco Malfoy, I had no idea you watched Disney princess movies!”

His cheeks reddened even further. “I do _not._ Blaise merely mentioned that you two had a ‘Disney princess movie marathon’ or some rubbish over the summer.”

My grin only grew. “Whatever you say, Malfoy.” My expression sobered then, and I added seriously, “Thank you, though. Really.”

His pale blonde eyebrows lowered in confusion. “What for?”

“For making me smile when I wanted to cry.” 

He shrugged, his cheeks still a bit rosy. “Just restoring order to the Hufflepuff kingdom. Can’t have their Prefect a crying mess, can we?”

I rolled my eyes and dipped into a curtsy, turning my hand over with a flourish. “Thank you for your kindness, dear sir. I am forever in your debt.”

Before I could take my hand back, Malfoy grabbed it, yanking me forward, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles and bowing over my hand. His grey eyes glinted with mischief. “I aim to please, Your Highness.” 

My cheeks burned as he stepped back with a cheeky grin. I glanced back at Blaise; it looked like his conversation with Theo was close to an end. I looked over at Malfoy again, noting for the first time that he carried no luggage.

“Aren’t you going home?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. 

Malfoy’s expression lost most of its mirth. “Not this year.”

I frowned. “Family troubles?”

He only nodded, and I felt my expression soften. 

“Well, we have plenty of room at home, if you want to join us for Christmas dinner later this evening.” I bit my lip, my eyes flicking down to the ground. “Mum isn’t the best company, but Blaise and I will be there, and I’m sure you know his father…” I felt emotion climbing up my throat again, overwhelming me until I felt a gentle finger lifting my chin. 

“Chin up, remember?” Malfoy’s expression had softened into molten silver. “...I’ll be there.”

“Really?” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. It had been so long since we had a guest over for Christmas dinner. 

Malfoy chuckled and gave me a gentle shove towards my brother. “Really. Now go, or the train will leave without you.”

I turned to walk over to Blaise, but on impulse I turned back, giving the Slytherin a shy but grateful smile. “Happy Christmas, Draco.” 

He shoved his hands into his pockets once more, his expression unreadable. “Happy Christmas, Felicity.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fanfic, so be kind, please! :)


End file.
